


I Bet My Life

by RebellingStagnation



Series: Geronimo Series [6]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-06-09 05:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 54,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6892339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebellingStagnation/pseuds/RebellingStagnation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gosalyn and Negaduck are in for more than they bargained for when new threats compromise their partnership. Including, but not limited to, one Mighty Masked Mallard. Sequel to "Let's Get D-D-D-Dangerous." You don't have to have read it to understand this story. Hopefully. Rated T for some strong language and some violence in later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. PROLOGUE: Alive

“Oh, what’s this? _What’s this_?” he questioned, peering out of his prison. 

 

The city was at war with itself.  

 

Buildings had fallen to ruin. Streets were lined with deep cracks and gaping crevices. Some blocks had been flooded to where you couldn’t make out the black asphalt at all, murky water now lining shattered storefronts to decrepit diners. The entire metropolis was absolutely littered with cars, buses, semi trucks and other miscellaneous modes of transportation, all of them sitting on their metal frames, their rubber tires long gone or flattened to uselessness. 

 

And yet, amidst the crumbling city’s infrastructure, the soft unyielding hand of Mother Nature had started to creep in. Vines had crawled up buildings and lampposts; some facades completely covered, the leaves now outlining the architecture of what was once a bustling office plaza. The streets that sat underwater had been transformed into marshes, moss and algae floating on the surface. Grasses of all variations had sprouted from the industrial fractures, the foliage consuming everything that had been constructed on top of it from the inside out. 

 

The takeover was beautiful. And agonizingly slow. The city would be tortured for years until it was finally defeated, trees and grass and flowers and plants the victors. Some decomposed metal and marble would be the only witnesses to the hostile takeover that had occurred here. 

 

“Oh, yes, _yes_ ,” he gushed as he opened his door and seeped out into the pavement-turned-grassland. “This will do _nicely_.” 

 

No one was witness to his release back into the world. They didn’t try to stop or welcome him. Which was just what he needed. It was always preferable to slip in somewhere unnoticed and only later have others realize it was too late for them to do anything about it. 

 

How long had it been since his last meal? He couldn’t recall. Time was not a concept when he was trapped in his box; with no sunlight to give indicators of days passing by, weeks and months could have come and gone before he washed up here. 

 

But where was _here_? This delightful little wasteland had to have some sort of name.

 

A soft clanging echoed around the surrounding crumbles of the dying city, drawing his attention outside of himself. Glancing around, he tried to pinpoint where, exactly, the sound had come from. The next street over, he was sure of it. Slithering towards where he imagined the noise had originated, he rounded a corner to see a young man spray painting a crumbling brick wall. 

 

No. Not spray painting. 

 

Graffiti. This youth was graffitiing the alleyway. 

 

Well. If this was a sign of the type of people who inhabited this apocalyptic world, it was no wonder he had awoken from his slumber. 

 

“I say…” he said, drifting forward. His voice, however, startled the young man, who kicked his bag of spray cans away and bolted down the street, glancing back only once before rounding a corner and disappearing. 

 

He didn’t bother to follow the lad. He didn’t have the strength and, really, he was more interested in the artwork than the artist. 

 

Slinking in front of the makeshift canvas, he observed the abandoned portrait. 

 

Immediately, he was able to recognize the face that had been depicted. He would recognize that scarlet fedora, hornet yellow jacket, and ebony cape anywhere. Negaduck. The villainous mallard was snarling furiously within the painting, peering down with such malice it would strike fear into the hearts of even the more daring of ne’er-do-wells. 

 

Large letters curved around the duck’s head, spelling out, “Lord Negaduck. King of the Negaverse.” 

 

The Negaverse. Was that what this charming mechanized wilderness was called? He hoped so; it was a name that befitted the decaying municipality he’d found himself in.

 

And there _was_ negativity here, as the name suggested. Hatred. Anger. Frustration. He could feel it.

 

Plenty to subdue his gnawing hunger. He could gorge himself and still have enough to feast on for years to come.

 

It was just the sort of place that Paddywhack had been looking for. Maybe, one day, he could even call it “home”. 

 


	2. Run Around Sue

Darkwing sighed as he settled into his seat as best he could, wincing as the waxy upholstery squeaked loudly with his movement.

Yep.

He was ready to leave.

He had already gagged at the smell of grease and coffee that hung permanently in the air, lazily dancing to the desperately upbeat 1950s tunes. The waitresses, dressed in poodle skirts, red lipstick, and high ponytails, trudged around the run-down diner, smacking gum as they yelled orders through the kitchen window. Darkwing was sure that half of what they screamed wasn’t even English. That they deliberately strung together random words just to confuse their diners. You don’t know if the eggs, hash browns, and bacon you ordered was called a “that’s all yolks” and who were you to question them if it was? You just had to wait and hope that your food came out the way you had ordered it. 

“Want anythin’, hon?” A waitress slid into his booth, sitting across from him as if they were somehow friends, and looked at him with dreary eyes. 

“Just two waters to start,” Darkwing said with a smile.

The waitress blew a bubble with her gum, the small balloon of pink gunk exploding with a soft but definitive snap. “Sure, doll.” 

Darkwing could have sworn he saw her roll her eyes before she heaved herself onto her Mary Janes once more, slinking behind the soda counter to gossip with the other waitresses gathered around the kitchen window. 

He wished he could go home. The pale fluorescent lighting offset by the bright neon sign blinking that the establishment stood O-P-E-N was giving him a headache.

But he only had to survive one meal. 

When he’d said they could have lunch anywhere, he had been hoping it would have been … well … literally _any other restaurant_ in the city. She just had to pick the _one_ restaurant in town that Darkwing had avoided like the plague ever since the gum ball incident. He never had managed to get it all out of his suit, even after taking it to countless dry cleaners. And Launchpad hadn’t been able to even chew bubblegum since… 

“Dark- I mean, Drake!” came a cheery voice, the bright tone breaking through the 50s grime like Amonia Pine’s kitchen cleaner on stubborn grease.

Darkwing couldn’t help the smile that broke across his beak as he looked up and saw her approach. He stood to hug NegaGosalyn, not able to ignore how desperately she clung to him. 

“How you been, Gos?” he asked.

“It’s Christine now, actually,” she said, smiling blindingly at him as she slid into the booth. Darkwing resumed his seat, frowning as the red plastic squeaked in protest again. 

“New name for new look,” he said, motioning to her brown hair. “I hardly recognized you.” 

NegaGosalyn — Christine — fingered her braid. “That’s the idea.” She turned to the bubblegum blowing waitress, who was back with the waters. NegaGos- Christine’s smile was sweet even as the waitress glowered down at them. “I’ll take a chocolate milkshake, please.” 

The waitress sighed, resigned, but nodded as she blew another bubble and turned to Darkwing. 

“The water’s good for now,” he said with an indulgent grin. The waitress popped the bubble before turning and heading back behind the counter. Darkwing sent a scowl after her but wiped it off as he turned back to NegaGosalyn. No, _Christine_. It would take awhile to get used to that. 

“What you been up to?” Darkwing asked, slightly off-put by the green eyes he knew so well looking at him from a more rounded face, her chestnut hair pristinely braided and tumbling gracefully over one shoulder.

He couldn’t help himself when he began imagining Christine with flame red hair, pulled back in a messy ponytail. An eyebrow quirked upward in challenge and slight skepticism. Beak twisted into a smirk. 

No.

That wouldn’t help.

NegaGosalyn — _Christine_ — was as different from Gosalyn as Negaduck was from Darkwing. He needed to think of the girls as completely separate. 

Still, those eyes got him every time, his mind stuttering to a halt when he saw them. Gosalyn — and Christine it would seem — had a singular talent of making Darkwing stop thinking. For a moment, there was nothing. Just _Gosalyn_. 

“Well, I got a new job,” Christine said with a sweet smile. Darkwing wondered what she was up to, instantly on alert. But he quickly berated himself. _Gosalyn_ might be planning world destruction if she flashed him that sickeningly sugary grin, but _Christine_ was being sincere. 

“Congrats!” he said. He should have said something else, really _anything else_ would have been nice, but he was still working on separating his daughter from this pure genuine version. And that was a lot of work.   

“Really, I didn’t have to do much to get it,” she said, sighing. “The Friendly Four— Do you remember them?” 

“With surprising detail,” Darkwing said, not mentioning that each member of the Friendly Four had an evil counterpart that he battled at least once a week. 

“They’ve established a police station in the Negaverse. It’s a small force, just made up of the Friendly Four, but they recently made me an officer to help them out.” 

And even if this girl wasn’t his daughter, Darkwing was able to pick up on the sadness tinging her tone. “Things still bad back home, huh?”

“Not at _my_ home but in the Negaverse, yes. All the good you and the Friendly Four did when you visited has been ruined by Negaduck.” Christine looked up as the waitress returned, smiling kindly at her as the milkshake was placed on the table. 

“What ya thinkin’ s’far as food?” the waitress asked, smacking her gum noisily. 

“I’ll just take a burger and fries, thanks,” Christine said, taking ahold of the straw in her milkshake and spinning it in small circles. 

“Same.” Darkwing sent the waitress a sarcastic smile and she popped another bubble in his face, nearly getting some of it on his beak. He rolled his eyes, before turning back to Christine as the waitress walked away. “Well, I didn’t expect anything I did to last very long. Not with Negaduck still in charge.” 

“Things were nice for awhile, after he was sucked into Oblivion or wherever it was he said he’d gone to,” Christine said, taking a taste of her milkshake. “We almost got normal lives but Negaduck showed up again, enforcing a whole new set of laws and making life miserable for anyone who didn’t follow them. The Friendly Four and I managed to escape before he came after us, finding a home outside St. Canard. We’ve been there ever since, helping out anyone who wants it.”

“I’m sure you’re making a difference.” Darkwing smiled at her and she blushed, looking down at her lap.

The more he talked with her, it was easier and easier for Darkwing to consider Gosalyn and Christine separate. Gosalyn was masculine and sarcastic and destroyed anything that got in her way. Christine was sweet and shy and only wanted good for others.

“I suppose. But that’s also why I’m here.” She looked up, those green eyes earnest. “If you’d be okay with it, I would love to go to S.H.U.S.H. headquarters. Maybe learn some new techniques. And whatever advice you’d be willing to give on how to defeat Negaduck, I’d appreciate even more.” 

“Of course,” Darkwing said, leaning forward with a smug grin. “I _am_ the authority on all things Negaduck, you know.” 

“Oh, I do know,” Christine said, giggling. Gosalyn had never giggled in her life. It was a nice sound; Darkwing wouldn’t mind if he heard it more often. But, then, if Gosalyn ever did giggle, she would be hiding something. Was it worth it to hear a giggle if it spelled disaster later down the line? 

Christine leaned forward, her eyes glinting with excitement. “The police force getting off the ground, your knowledge on Negaduck, your reconnaissance work… I’m sure we’ll beat him soon!” 

“Well, I do know a lot about him, after all… the… wait. Reconnaissance work?” Darkwing asked, his eyebrows lowering in confusion.

Christine cocked her head to the side like a confused puppy. “Isn’t Gosalyn working for you?” 

“I don’t think she would ever work _for_ me,” Darkwing said. “ _With_ me, yes. And we do. Work together. Why?” 

“I thought I saw her in the Negaverse a few times. I assumed…” 

“You’ve seen her? _My_ Gosalyn?” Darkwing questioned, his irritation spiking. Even when she was acting completely normal, not a giggle in sight, Gosalyn still managed to get herself into trouble.

He should have seen it coming. She’d been gone more and more lately, explaining her  absences by saying she was creating a villain database. Darkwing had never been as good with technology as he liked to brag he was, so she’d volunteered to take his notebooks and folders and stacks of papers and put everything in the computer. He had assumed she had gone to visit Honker at his grad school to get his help in creating a website or something. Really, it was a weak excuse and he should have seen right through it. 

Still.

If she was in the Negaverse, she probably was there gathering information against Negaduck or any of the villainous vagabonds that violated the vivacious metropolis. Or she was simply fighting them. Gosalyn had always needed action, and crime in St. Canard had been relatively slow lately. As quickly as his irritation had risen, affection for her warmed him through. The thought of his little girl battling villains in the Negaverse made him smile even as his heart stuttered at the thought of her going up against these villains on her own. Even though it terrified him, he was proud of her.

“I mean, I don’t go into the city a whole lot. It could have been someone else,” Christine offered, worry furrowing her brow. 

“No, it was probably Gos. I bet she’s bored and looking for something to do. I suppose, she really _could_ be getting information on all the villains who live in the Negaverse…” 

Christine sighed, her brow smoothing in her relief. “Well, seeing her run around with Negaduck makes sense now!” 

“Exactly! She’s been traveling to the Negaverse to… t-to… r-run with N-Negaduck?” Darkwing asked, suddenly out of breath. 

“Well, I say, ‘run with’,” Christine said dismissively, not noticing Darkwing’s panicked look, “but it’s more like they’ve been working together? I don’t know. But if she’s gathering information against him, then that fits.” She looked at Darkwing and her expression fell at the sight of his. “Doesn’t it?” 

“Why partner with a villain to get information from them?” 

“To gain their trust. Learn their weaknesses. She’s probably undercover. Like Donnie Brasco!” Christine’s tone was still light. Probably trying to cheer him up. It wasn’t working.

Because Darkwing didn’t buy it. Any of it. Gosalyn was brilliant and took to crime fighting easily, but undercover was not something she excelled at. In fact, she was comically bad at it. She couldn’t take on another persona to save her life. 

So, if it _looked_ like she and Negaduck were partners, then that meant… 

“You know, I’m not hungry,” Darkwing said, a knot forming in his stomach. Pulling out enough cash to cover the bill, he tossed it on the table and jumped to his feet, pulling Christine after him. “Why don’t I take you to S.H.U.S.H. now? I could introduce you to J. Gander Hooter, Dr. Sara Bellum, whoever you want! I’m sure they’d give you a tour and answer all of your questions.” 

“Oh, okay.” Christine sounded slightly off put as she stumbled after him, but quickly regained her composure, exclaiming, “Thanks, Drake, I really appreciate it!” 

“Sure, kiddo. Sure.” Darkwing left the diner, pushing past everyone on the sidewalk as he nearly sprinted the three blocks to where he’d parked the Ratcatcher. A quick change into his crime fighter’s costume and he and Christine were underway, speeding through the streets of St. Canard.

“Is something wrong?” Christine asked, glancing at Darkwing from the sidecar.

“No, no,” Darkwing said, laughing nervously as he sped through a yellow light. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this. My daughter would not, under any circumstances, team up with my arch nemesis!” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points to anyone who knows why Christine chose that particular name to call herself :)


	3. Welcome All Again

“I want to hear you say it,” Gosalyn cried, ducking down an alley.

An explosion erupted in the street she’d just dodged away from, the surrounding buildings trembling as flames and rubble jetted down the street behind her. Gosalyn stumbled, her hands reaching for the walls to steady herself. But another set of hands grabbed her, throwing her on the ground, and, seconds later, he threw himself on top of her.

Once the street settled into small fires and the city no longer quaked from the blast, Gosalyn glanced up at her protector. She smirked as the two made eye contact.

“I was right,” she said. 

Negaduck growled as he stood. He dusted his cape off and walked back towards the street, glancing up and down to see where their enemy had gotten to. Gosalyn pushed herself onto her feet, patting her costume and sending dust flying off her in clouds. She winced as a dull pain radiated from her wrist. 

“I think I sprained something when you pushed me down,” Gosalyn said, turning to Negaduck. 

“Your quiver probably bruised my ribs, so we’ll call it even.”

Gosalyn sent Negaduck a dark scowl, which she wiped off immediately when she realized he was watching her. 

Negaduck rolled his eyes before slinking out onto the street. Making a mental note to get a wrist brace when she got back home, Gosalyn followed Negaduck. He crouched behind an overturned car, Gosalyn dropping to all fours and crawling up behind him. 

“You find him yet?” she whispered, scanning the rooftops for any sign of their adversary. 

“By the Hamburger Hippo.” 

Gosalyn pulled out her bow and nocked an arrow. “You going South for winter?” 

Negaduck glanced down at her, his beak twisted down in a frown. “What conversation do you think we’re having?” 

Gosalyn gave him an incredulous look. “I was speaking in code.” 

“Don’t.” Negaduck shook his head. “Don’t do that.” 

“I don’t want him to know what we’re saying! He’s probably planning his next move.” 

“He can’t hear us.” 

“There’s no way you know that.” 

Negaduck cocked an eyebrow. “It’s called science. He won’t be able to hear anything for at least a few hours. Idiot stood too close to his dynamite.” 

Gosalyn cocked an eyebrow at him. “Fine. Negaduck, oh feared crime lord of the Negaverse, would you object to entering from the south side of the burger establishment?” 

“Now you’re just being obnoxious,” he sneered.

“Spirited,” Gosalyn corrected, standing and firing her arrow towards Hamburger Hippo. 

“And I hate that,” he growled before grabbing a box of matches from a pocket within his suit and sprinting towards the restaurant. She smirked at his billowing cape. 

Overall, this mission was going fairly well. 

Gosalyn’s arrow sailed in front of the decimated Hamburger Hippo, dumping kerosene as it soared overhead. Negaduck struck a match and tossed it onto the liquid, which instantly ignited. He tucked away the matches in his cape, straightened his shirt collar, and calmly stepped through the flames, an expression of restrained rage probably firmly in place.

As Gosalyn jogged after Negaduck, firing a water arrow to extinguish the blaze, she had to admit that entering through flames was way cooler than blue smoke. As the flames died down into grey wispy smoke, she caught sight of their adversary: Steelbeak.

Gosalyn hadn’t yet come across a Nega-Steelbeak yet, though she was sure one existed somewhere. This Steelbeak was the same one she fought back in her own universe: smarmy, suave, and too clever for his own good. He’d showed up in the Negaverse a month or so ago, when F.O.W.L had been eradicated by S.H.U.S.H. The two rival spy agencies had been at war for years and thanks to one inside man on S.H.U.S.H.’s side, the Fiendish Organization for World Larceny was now gone. 

For now. Gosalyn wasn’t so sure it would last forever, but a break from the elaborate “take over the world” schemes would be a nice change of pace. 

Desperate for work after his organization had gone belly-up, Steelbeak had relocated to the Negaverse, having heard the rumors about Negaduck. 

Darkwing’s dark double had transformed into a crime boss. Many had flocked to Negaduck’s villainous paradise, allowing him to figure out details of their misdemeanors then go on the jobs he had intricately organized for them. Everyone who’d worked with him seemed all too happy to let him take control while they did the dirty work. And Negaduck took to the management role effortlessly.

For a price.

For every successful mission, Negaduck took a percentage of their haul. For every unsuccessful mission… Well. Let’s just say you didn’t want to cross Negaduck if you failed at a mission he had gone to all the trouble to arrange for you. 

“That was cute,” Negaduck said to Steelbeak as he approached. Lunging forward, Negaduck grabbed the rooster by the throat and threw him up against the crumbling exterior of the Hamburger Hippo. “You violated our agreement, Steelbeak, and trying to blow me up won’t save you.” 

Gosalyn approached the two, her brow furrowing. “I thought you said he couldn’t hear.” 

“He can’t,” Negaduck growled, a smirk on his beak.

“Then why are you monologuing?” 

Negaduck looked to her, ready to respond but couldn’t seem to find the words he needed, so he closed his beak with a snarl.

Steelbeak held up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, I— Whoa! Can youse guys…?” He raised his hand, feathered fingers trying to dig out the blockage in his ears. “I sound like I’m underwater or somethin’. Am I yelling?” Steelbeak practically screamed. Gosalyn winced as Negaduck tightened his hold on the villain’s neck.

“I get da picture, Negsy babe,” the rooster choked out, his voice still raised. “I won’t try to cross youse again.” Negaduck must have tightened his hold further because Steelbeak gagged, eyes bulging, as his hands came up and gripped Negaduck’s to try and pry his fingers away. “And I won’t evah do nothin’ without your express permission. I’ll always wait for youse to clear all my crimes for me foist.” 

Negaduck regarded Steelbeak for a moment longer before he released the rooster. Steelbeak crumpled onto the ground, fingers massaging his neck as he coughed, desperate to get air back in his lungs. Negaduck loomed over Steelbeak, arms crossed over his chest as he curled his beak in a snarl. 

“I get it, I get it,” Steelbeak yelled, scrambling up and backing away. “Sheesh, what’s a guy gotta do to apologize around here?” He stumbled down the street, his hands coming up to massage his ears as he became a smaller dot amidst the city’s growing shadows. 

Gosalyn waited until the rooster had disappeared from sight before she shouldered her bow. “Can’t I work on some sort of flamethrower prototype for you? It’s so embarrassing to have your partner whip out a box of  _matches_ mid fight.” 

Negaduck stood in silence a little while longer, eyes trained on the area where Steelbeak had disappeared before turning and walking back down the recently bombed street. “Villains use their wits, not stupid high tech gadgets.” 

Gosalyn followed Negaduck, shaking her head. “I don’t think you heard me say the word ‘flamethrower’…”  

Negaduck looked back at her. “No gadgets.” 

“They’d be upgraded weapons, not _gadgets_ …” 

Negaduck looked back at her, eyes holding a warning. “My weapons do the job on their own, _thank you_.” 

Gosalyn threw her hands up as they turned to walk down Avian Way. “Fine. But I will, officially, be embarrassed to be seen with you.” 

Negaduck snorted, eyes surveying 537 carefully. After a few moments of silent study, he slunk up to the front door and kicked it open. Dropping to the ground, Negaduck rolled inside, jumping up about halfway down the hall, his hands poised for attack as he walked slowly through the house, ready to assault whoever might have the gall to break in and try to ambush the Lord of the Negaverse.

Gosalyn, on the other hand, traipsed inside, rolling her eyes as she observed the damaged door. “You have to go back to the hardware store now.”  

“Stay put until I give the all clear,” Negaduck said, blatantly ignoring her glib comment and slinking towards the kitchen to make sure no one had managed to break in while he’d been away.

Gosalyn sighed, lifting what was left of the front door and propping it up in the open doorway. She made her way upstairs, drawing her bow and nocking an arrow as she entered her bedroom. Scanning the room and seeing no one, she tucked her weapons away and shut her door.

She called it “her” bedroom, but really it was the bedroom NegaGosalyn had used before she’d left with the Friendly Four. Gosalyn had simply moved a few of her belongings in, not wanting to haul her Quiverwing costumes back and forth from the Negaverse to St. Canard. 

Since she was working with both her father and his arch nemesis on a regular basis, Gosalyn had decided to wear two different costumes when she was with each duck. Her St. Canard costume was the soft fern green accented with purples and browns she’d designed a few years ago as her signature look. Her Negaverse costume was a dark pine, trimmed with yellows and blacks, giving her an altogether more intimidating appearance. 

NegaGosalyn, if she’d stayed with Negaduck and had decided to be a crime fighter or some sort of super villain since everything in this universe was backwards, might have chosen some shade of pink to make her costume out of. That was, if the old furnishings in her room were anything to go by. Before Gosalyn had redecorated the room she had tentatively started calling hers, she'd had the pleasure of pulling down musty fuchsia curtains and rolling up salmon rugs. Gosalyn hadn’t left any trace of pink in the place, instead letting her growing arsenal of bows and arrows slowly accumulate around the room. It helped in the end; Negaduck wasn’t as reluctant to enter the more the room became her own.

He blamed himself for NegaGosalyn leaving, though he'd never admit it. Just like he'd never admit that he harbored any feelings beyond contempt for the little curly haired child that used to skip around the house, trying so desperately to please him. If either Negaduck or NegaGosalyn had put any effort into the relationship, it would have worked out. As it was, he only grew nastier and she eventually ran away with the Friendly Four, leaving him the worse for wear. 

Although, it was due to NegaGosalyn's absence that Gosalyn had even been allowed to wriggle her way into Negaduck's life, so she really had no room to complain. Gosalyn liked Negaduck and wouldn't give up being his sort of partner for anything. 

Having changed into her St. Canard clothes, she grabbed her weapons and opened her bedroom door to see Negaduck standing in the hall, his arms crossed and a deep scowl on his face. 

“I take it you understand basic English,” he growled. 

“On my good days,” Gosalyn said, sidestepping him easily and descending the stairs. 

“So, when I instruct you to ‘stay put’, what does that translate to in your little brain?” he demanded, following her to the first level of the house.

“I have my own set of weapons. I even did a perimeter check of the room before I went inside.” Gosalyn rolled her eyes heavenward. Really, for hating one another so much, Negaduck and her father were very similar. Darkwing was just as overprotective and paranoid about sneak attacks. Negaduck’s fear was more firmly grounded, especially considering the company he kept within the Negaverse, but really. _So_ unnecessary. 

“You haven’t answered my question,” Negaduck growled. 

Gosalyn sighed, walking towards what was left of the front door. “I can take care of myself.”

“That’s not what we’re arguing.”

“I don’t think that _ever_ needs arguing,” Gosalyn said, turning to face Negaduck, her hands coming up to rest on her hips.  

Negaduck eyed her. “You know how I feel about avoiding questions.” 

Gosalyn eyed him for a moment. “Next time I’ll let you check out the whole house before I go upstairs.” 

Negaduck nodded.

“Unless you take too long, in which case I’m just going to do it myself.” Gosalyn smiled in triumph as Negaduck sent her a dark look. Glancing at the splintered remains of the front door, she said, “If you’re gonna kick open doors so much, can I suggest you get those saloon style ones? That rotate back and forth?” 

“That would require a more intensive trip to the hardware store,” Negaduck said, rolling his eyes.

“But you wouldn’t have to go ever again if your doors could take your fury.” 

Negaduck growled something incoherent before stepping forward and hauling the door open. 

“One longer trip to the store with some instruction guides on how to install the doors, or  basic hardware and weekly trips. Think about it,” Gosalyn said, maneuvering through the opening Negaduck had managed to procure for her. 

“Can I trade _you_ in for a model that listens to my instructions?” Negaduck growled, standing on the porch and crossing his arms. 

Gosalyn smiled petulantly at him. “I’m no longer in syndication. You’re stuck with me.” 

Negaduck sighed, but Gosalyn caught a ghost of a smile tugging at the edges of his beak. 

Nodding at him, Gosalyn said, “See you next crime,” before she made her way down the street, jumping over the cracks in the asphalt and foliage that was starting to creep onto the sidewalks and roads. 

The Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice Bakery — and the portal back to her her home in St. Canard — was only a few blocks away, and Negaduck would follow her down all of them. At a safe distance. He didn’t want her knowing he tracked her movements while she was in the Negaverse. Because that would mean that he cared about her. Enough to keep an eye on her. 

And he couldn’t have that. 

So Gosalyn pretended not to notice. Even if she sometimes caught sight of the edge of his cape, or a glimpse of his scarlet fedora when she looked over her shoulder. 

 


	4. Hello, Little Girl

“Thank you for showing me around,” Christine said, turning to her tour guide and smiling down at him. “I know your time is better spent elsewhere…” 

 

“Nonsense!” J. Gander Hooter waved away Christine’s concern with a smile on his small beak. Everything about J. Gander was small from his miniature neatly pressed suit to his tiny half-moon spectacles. “Any friend of Darkwing’s is a friend of mine. And a friend of S.H.U.S.H..” 

 

“Nevertheless, I appreciate your willingness to take me around the agency _yourself_ ,” she mentioned, folding her hands in front of her. “We came by unannounced, and I’m sure you were busy…” 

 

Darkwing had breezed into S.H.U.S.H., all but dragging Christine behind him and flinging her at the smaller duck — she almost knocked him over with how much taller she was — with a, “J. Gander, this is Christine. She’s from the Negaverse and is forming a police force to fight the crime over there. She’s a personal friend of mine and I’d appreciate it if you could show her around, help her out, you know whatever she might need. Christine, this is J. Gander Hooter, the Director of S.H.U.S.H. Sorry I can’t stay. I’ll see you later, J.. We’ll do lunch!” Then he was gone, a flash of his purple cape and the rev of the Ratcatcher the last she saw, or heard from, Darkwing. 

 

Christine had awkwardly introduced herself to the director of the largest spy organization in all of St. Canard, possibly in all of the world, by saying her name in a shaky voice and holding out a clammy hand. He’d smiled up at her, taken her hand, and had mentioned what an honor it was to meet her. He then had dismissed the agents that’d been flanking him with reports and forms and statistics to give her a full tour of the facility. Even though he had treated her with the utmost respect and had made each of her pestering questions seem important, Christine couldn’t shake the feeling that she was very much in the way. She was a little relieved, to be honest, that she was finally allowed to leave, their tour having come to an end. 

 

“That’s part of Darkwing’s charm!” J. Gander said warmly. “His unpredictability and rather eccentric ways are what make him so essential to this agency’s success.” 

 

Christine opened her mouth to protest again, still eager to please the man, but he took her hand — which was still a little clammy — and patted it softly. “My dear, it was my pleasure to take you around our little establishment. A cause such as yours needs all the help it can get. And after gathering a little more details on what you’d need, I feel confident that we would partner with you and your, what did you call them? Fantastic Four?” 

 

“Friendly Four,” Christine said gently, her mind straying to her adoptive fathers. She hoped her absence, even though she’d only been gone for a few days, wasn’t impacting them too negatively. The criminal world in the Negaverse were less predictable than the weather. 

 

“It’s a big job,” J. Gander continued, releasing her hand back to her. “Five of you can only go so far to make any real change. Consider S.H.U.S.H. officially on your side.” 

 

Blinking, Christine felt a smile start to spread across her face. “Thank you, Director Hooter!” 

 

“We can schedule a meeting with your Fabulous Four in a few weeks. You tell us what you need and we can see what can be arranged.” 

 

Christine wove her fingers together, hoping he wouldn’t take her hand again. On top of the clamminess, now they were shaking. “I-I didn’t expect so much support so quickly!” 

 

J. Gander continued walking down the hall, nodding and waving to other agents as they passed. “When you go up against Negaduck, you’ll find plenty of support. He and his goons have wronged many people and we need to stop them from harming more.” 

 

“Well said, sir,” came a deep voice from behind Christine. Startled, she jumped backwards and bumped into J. Gander Hooter. The director stumbled but did not fall, his small hands coming up to straighten his little jacket and minuscule cufflinks. 

 

Christine, however, _was_ falling. And not gracefully. She didn’t have the same class or balance as J. Gander. Her arms pinwheeled as she careened towards the ground. She was sure her expression betrayed her mortification at falling in front of so many prestigious agents.

 

But a strong pair of hands managed to grab her shoulders as she lost her battle against gravity, and placed her firmly on her feet again. Stunned, her eyes roved up to her savior to see exactly who this man was. And to see if he deserved her gratitude at saving her from falling or her chastisement for scaring her in the first place. 

 

Standing taller than any other duck Christine had come across — except perhaps Launchpad from all those years ago — he smiled sweetly at her from a beak that would be much too large on anyone else but fit him perfectly. Deep-set slate gray eyes peered keenly at her, seeming to catalogue every detail in her face before he released his hold on her, satisfied she was steady on her feet.

 

He stepped back, glancing down to J. Gander Hooter. He didn’t bend down to look at him, though, his skeletal frame standing upright with only his eyes traveling down to meet the director’s. 

 

“Ah, Stellar. I was wondering when you’d stop by,” J. Gander said, adjusting his spectacles as he craned his short neck practically all the way back to look up at the recent addition to their party. 

 

“Apologies, Director. I was detained in a meeting.” Stellar said, his voice velvety smooth as he tucked his bony hands behind his back. The long legged man caught Christine’s eye and smiled at her again. A little half smile as he looked her up and down properly, those clever eyes storing away whatever information he was gathering. “Will I have the pleasure of being introduced to your guest?” 

 

J. Gander straightened his spine as if it might make him taller, but he didn’t even measure up to Stellar’s waist. He barely made it past Christine’s. “Stellar, this is Christine, a personal friend to Darkwing Duck. Christine, this is Agent Stellar Mallard. He’s in our undercover unit.”

 

“ _The_ Stellar Mallard?” Christine asked, feeling her eyes grow wide and her cheeks color. She’d practically fallen flat on her face in front of him. At their first — and presumably only — meeting, none the less!

 

Stellar grinned and dipped his head in greeting, Christine getting a clear view of the grey feathers lining his head and tumbling down his neck. “The very same.” 

 

Christine grinned as she clasped her hands in front of her chest. “I’ve heard of your story since I was young, how you escaped the Negaverse and made a life for yourself here. Your recent take down of F.O.W.L. is not only the stuff of legend, but it gave us the leverage to start our police force in the Negaverse! Not that I’m trying to compare what _you_ do to what _we_ do,” Christine said, suddenly horrified that she’d offended him.

 

She knew that she was making herself look clumsy and awkward in front of _Agent Stellar Mallard_ , but the words just kept coming and she wasn’t able to stop them. “What’s a police force — and one that just started — compared to your undercover work in the Fiendish Organization for World Larceny? All we do is try to fight the villains in the city. Which, I mean, sounds kind of impressive, but it’s not. _Really_ not. Especially considering that you took down _a whole spy agency_ within a few _months_ and there’s…” 

 

Stellar held up a hand, effectively silencing her. Which was for the best. Who knew what would have come out of her beak if she’d kept going? She probably would have told him her whole life story or something. Like Agent Stellar Mallard would want to hear about  _that_ mess. 

 

“You give me entirely too much credit,” Stellar said, smiling at her. Probably out of pity. Still, it was a smile and Christine would take that as a small victory. 

 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Christine said, smiling so big she was sure it took up half her face. 

 

“You started an entire police force against Negaduck. That, my dear, is impressive in itself.” 

 

“Not really. It was the logical next step. The Friendly Four — those are my guardians — and I escaped from Negaduck years ago and now we’re trying to fight against him. It’s nothing like what you do.” 

 

Stellar raised an eyebrow. “ _You_ escaped from Negaduck?”

 

Christine nodded. 

 

“You must have been only a child.” 

 

“I was nine. So, yes. Still, I had help. Darkwing Duck rescued me and then the Friendly Four took me in, so, really, I did nothing. Just left Negaduck for something better.” 

 

Stellar regarded her in silence, his gaze finally leaving her face when J. Gander Hooter cleared his throat.

 

“There’s a new mission for you, which I won’t go into the details of now.” J. Gander glanced at Christine. 

 

Again, she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “Oh! I’m sorry. I’m… and you’re…. I’ll go. I have things… Anyway.” She bowed at Agent Stellar Mallard — actually _bowed_ ; she would never be able to live this down — as she said, “It was a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Turning back to her host, she smiled kindly, bending down to shake his hand again. “Director Hooter, thank you again for the tour and your hospitality.” 

 

“We will be in touch with you and your Funny Four.” J. Gander smiled. 

 

Christine nearly corrected J. Gander but thought better of it, instead saying, “I appreciate it, sir.” She stood and walked away, trying to play it cool as she passed by Agent Stellar Mallard. 

 

But he extended a thin arm, wrapping it around her shoulders and effectively stopping her progress down the hall. Turning her around, Stellar brought her to his side, his hand still resting on her shoulder. She clenched her hands together in the hopes that they would stop shaking, her heart beating wildly at the prospect of _Agent Stellar Mallard_ stopping her from leaving. _And_ he was touching her. She could smell his cologne, all woodsy and musky and masculine. _Keep it together, Christine. Play it real cool._ But air left her lungs and she had to remind herself how to breathe. 

 

“Surely the mission can wait, Director.” 

 

“It _is_ urgent,” J. Gander said, frowning slightly. 

 

“I’d wager the takedown of Negaduck is more pressing,” Agent Stellar Mallard said, raising a dark eyebrow high above the other, his beak twisting into an all-knowing smile. 

 

J. Gander eyed him dubiously. “You believe you can take him down?” 

 

“Most assuredly. With the help of Christine here,” Stellar’s hand squeezed her shoulder lightly, “I’m confident we could dispose of him within the week.” 

 

J. Gander narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing. 

 

Stellar added, smoothly, “You did mention that we need to stop Negaduck and his little followers from harming more people. And what better way than helping Christine with her new police agency, which,” he looked to Christine, his eyes clear and unwavering, “I do not take lightly by any means.” Christine blushed further, grinning like an idiot. Agent Stellar Mallard smiled — at her! — before looking back at J. Gander and concluded, “This accomplishes both your objectives.” 

 

J. Gander shook his head, removing his spectacles and cleaning them with a cloth he pulled from his jacket pocket. “I would rather put someone on this who has more experience with Negaduck…” 

 

“You’ll be hard pressed to find any agent with more experience than I,” Stellar mentioned, his voice deepening to sound something like a threat. 

 

“ _Recent_ experience, I should have said.” Having cleaned his glasses, J. Gander replaced them on his beak and returned the cloth to his pocket. 

 

“Christine has that. And, between the two of us, none know him better.” 

 

“Christine is not an agent.” 

 

“She is more than that,” Agent Stellar Mallard pulled her even closer, his embrace warm even though he was all bones. “She is a partner in need of help. Sir, would you deny one of our allies aid in their hour of need?” 

 

“We’re not really in an hour of—” Christine’s comment was cut short by a sharp pinch from Stellar, much harsher than the warm supportive squeeze from before. Christine pressed her beak together, not wanting to offend a man — her hero — who was just trying to help her. 

 

“First F.O.W.L. then Negaduck,” Agent Stellar Mallard said, his tone taking on one of grandeur. “Think of the press, sir. The prestige of another massive takedown. Your name would go into history books.” 

 

J. Gander frowned. “History has a nasty habit of telling only one side of the story.” 

 

“Then, sir, might I suggest you make it _your_ side which gets passed down.” 

 

A few moments of silence passed, Christine looking back and forth from the towering agent and the small director, both staring at one another in the stillness. 

 

Finally, J. Gander sighed, his beak still twisted downwards and his brow tightly furrowed. “I can afford you only one week on this diversion. On Sunday, I expect to see you in my office, whether this was successful or not.” 

 

Stellar bowed his head, a triumphant smile on his beak. “Sir.” 

 

J. Gander didn’t bother with a farewell as he turned down the hall. As if they had been waiting for him, a gaggle of agents appeared, asking him questions and handing him papers. 

 

Christine stepped forward, wanting to thank J. Gander again, but Agent Stellar Mallard’s hand on her shoulder was as strong as steel, turning around and walking the opposite way with her still pressed against his side.

 

“Now, Christine,” he said, looking to her and smiling genially. The blush that had all but disappeared from her cheeks returned in a rush. “I bet you’re clever enough to be able to tell me where Negaduck lives.” 

 

Her eyebrows knit together in sudden confusion. “You mean, _you_ don’t know?” she asked. She hadn’t meant anything by it, but still Stellar’s expression fell minutely. His steady gaze flashed for only an instant before he resumed a happy smile. 

 

“All I know definitively is that he lives in the Negaverse,” he said, patting her on the shoulder warmly. “I would have gathered more information on where that pathetic cretin decided to call his home if I’d been allowed to stay longer.” 

 

“What _did_ happen?” Christine asked. She was aware that Stellar had fought against Negaduck and his villainous tirade years before her time, but something had caused Stellar to leave the Negaverse. Something no one had any clear details on. And all his progress on defeating Negaduck came to a grinding halt once he’d gone. 

 

“The self-proclaimed lord of the Negaverse put a price on my head,” Stellar said, still smiling but some bitterness seeping in. “And as I’m sure you’re well aware, my dear, there is no honor amongst thieves. Nor any loyalty. Any allies I’d made were suddenly too enamored with the money and turned against me.” 

 

None of that surprised Christine. The Negaverse was littered with criminals and delinquents, most of them willing to do anything for a quick buck. Negaduck putting a price on anyone’s head not only singled them out as someone Negaduck refused to do business with, but also effectively put them on every hit list in existence. There were only a handful of unfortunate miscreants who’d had a price put on their heads. The only survivor stood before her now. 

 

“But, _you_  still live in the Negaverse if I’m not mistaken,” Stellar said, his tone soft, his voice deep. He tightened his grip around her shoulders as he continued to steer them down the endless halls of S.H.U.S.H., all agents, scientists, and technicians pressing themselves against the walls or darting into nearby rooms to get out of his way. Christine was practically jogging to keep up with his long strides; if he was not pressing her into his side, effectively pulling her along with him, he would have lost her to a wayward hall many turns ago. 

 

“I don’t live in the city,” Christine corrected sheepishly. “I haven’t for awhile.” 

 

“But you did once,” Stellar said, coming to a halt as they reached the entrance lobby, turning to face her, his hands coming up to rest on her shoulders. “And I’m sure you’re smart enough to remember where Negaduck set up his base of operations.” 

 

Christine shrugged, or she would have if Stellar’s hands were not weighing down her shoulders. “I know the place he tended to keep most of his weapons. But he doesn’t trust anybody, I’m sure he will have moved everything by now. Several times.” 

 

“Still, a starting point!” Stellar said, his eyes sparkling as he grinned at Christine. “I knew I could not pass up the chance to work with you. I hated to argue with Director Hooter, but Negaduck has thwarted me in the past. I am not willing to let him have that sort of power over anyone else.” 

 

Christine smiled, the blush returning to her cheeks. Her first day asking for help and she already had an entire spy agency on her side. Not to mention the best spy in the world — and her personal hero — who had survived Negaduck’s tyrannical grasp and was willing to fight him again. With her at his side. 

 

She should have visited the prime St. Canard sooner. 

 

Stellar, his eyes studying her once again, gently reached forward, pulling at her braid gently, removing the hair tie. Christine blushed fiercely as he smiled gently at her. Clever fingers unbraided her hair, splaying her curled locks down around her shoulders. “You should wear your hair down more often,” he remarked, grasping her hand and setting the hair tie on her palm, curling her fingers around it. “It’s a very charming look on you. Makes those green eyes all the more beguiling.” 

 

With that, Stellar swept from the agency, his perfectly tailored three piece suit making the other agents, in standard suits and ties, look severely underdressed. 

 

Christine, clutching the elastic tie in her palm, touched her hair, studying the ends briefly before following Agent Stellar Mallard, her brown locks fanning out behind her. 

 

**_A/N: You’re not crazy; Stellar is not from the series. He’s my own creation. I hope you all enjoy him!_ **


	5. The End.

He strode home down the most decrepit and dangerous streets that he could think to take. Stepped over the cracks in the asphalt with childlike glee, sometimes having to jump with the weeds and crabgrass growing through. Admired the graffiti littering the buildings and alleyways as if it were fine art in a museum. Ran his fingers tenderly over the overturned rusting cars that were crammed in with hundreds of others in the streets; a futile attempt at leaving the city one night had turned into a roadblock making escape impossible. Breathed in the smog and musty isolation. 

 

To say he loved his city was a gross understatement. 

 

Negaduck _lived_ for the city. The slow decomposition. The futile signs that life still existed — the graffiti, the cars looted of their tires, the broken windows of any store worth raiding — made him grin with self-satisfaction. Some of these people tried so hard to survive. To make the city livable. But it was beyond help. The city was like one you saw in movies after an apocalypse: completely wrecked and barely holding on. The looters and hunters the only life that crawled through the shell of the city it once had been. 

 

He had never been prouder of anything else in his life. 

 

Well, that was mostly true. There was a bazooka back home that he had a certain amount of fondness for. And his weapons arsenal was something that always put a grin on his beak. But nothing compared to the pride and sense of accomplishment he got strolling back to his broken down home in the middle of his ravaged metropolis. It must be a similar feeling parents had when they were proud of their children. Not that he had any experience with the latter. 

 

Or so he told himself.

 

Firmly. 

 

And often profanely. 

 

He did _not_ have any experience feeling proud of any living thing. Not even one with a bow and arrow, her long scarlet locks cascading down into her quiver to the point that he had argued with her on getting them cut. 

 

Nope. 

 

He wasn’t proud of that. 

 

Absolutely fu— 

 

Jumping over a chasm in the street, he tucked himself into a tight ball in midair and rolled back down onto the street into a crouching position. Whirling around, he drew a Glock from his cape, aiming it down the street behind him. The 9mm piece didn’t waver, keeping its aim at the section of street Negaduck was absolutely positive he’d heard a sound come from. 

 

Sure, maybe it was a little premature to draw weapons when the sound could have been some stray animal jumping on top of any number of the abandoned rusting cars. But he didn’t like to take chances. 

 

And if he were a betting man, he would bet that this noise was intentional. 

 

His silent vigil paid off in the end, his eyes drawn to a small jack-in-the-box in the middle of the street. With a ferocious curl of his beak, he aimed his gun at the not-so-foreign object, eyes narrowing in hatred at the sight of it. 

 

No way this guy had the gall to show his face here. 

 

The lid of the box opened, a blur of black and white smog climbing into the air and spilling out into the streets, the colors solidifying to form a figure Negaduck snarled at as soon as he was fully formed. 

 

So. He did have the gall.

 

“I see you remember me,” said the figure, smiling down at Negaduck with his full set of pointed teeth. 

 

“Hard to forget someone who blows you up into microscopic pieces.” Negaduck leveled his Glock at the large chest that expanded several feet above him. He wasn’t sure what good any weapon would do on his new visitor. He didn’t even know what the guy was made of. This black and white nightmare was able to appear and disappear like the Cheshire Cat, leaving Negaduck confident that any of the weapons he’d stashed away in his suit would be useless here. 

 

Still. The weight of the steel in his hands calmed him down and centered him. Gave him something to focus on even if his heart was beating erratically. It was just a surge of adrenaline. His heart wasn't racing out of _fear_. His palms _weren’t_ sweating. He wasn’t thinking of ten different ways to get home so this grinning trickster wouldn’t be able to find him again.

 

This was just an exercise. Something to challenge his skills.

 

It wasn’t like he was _afraid_.

 

Or so he told himself. 

 

He did that a lot. Told himself things that weren’t true. 

 

Why he felt it necessary to lie even in his own mind was beyond him. 

 

“I never did get the chance to thank you,” Paddywhack said, his grin widening. Like _that_ was helping Negaduck’s growing anxiety. “I have never teamed up with someone who was so… _worthy_ of my powers.” 

 

“Funny way of showing your gratitude.” Negaduck furrowed his brows. Fear was weakness. But anger was power. And fear could be turned to anger. He’d had plenty of practice. 

 

Paddywhack laughed, a sickening clown-like cackle that made the feathers on Negaduck’s neck stand on end.

 

No.

 

He wasn’t afraid. This wasn’t _fear_.

 

It was anger. Rage. It _needed_ to be. _Those_ emotions he could handle.

 

This hopelessness and growing sense of dread was not something he was used to. And the fact that these feelings weren’t going away was what he found the most unsettling. 

 

“I suppose you’re right,” boomed Paddywhack. “Blowing up my host does seem an odd way to show affection. I’ve been so curious, by the way, as I’ve wandered through your charming city,” Paddywhack moved, his massive feet stepping over the congestion of cars with ease as he gestured around the Negaverse, the earth trembling with each step he took, “to know how you survived.” 

 

“I wouldn’t use the word ’survived’,” Negaduck growled, keeping his gun trained on the villain’s chest even though he knew it wouldn’t do much good. What could his Glock do to the skyscraper of a villain that was lumbering around his city? 

 

“Came back from the dead, then. Though the term is rather pedestrian, I suppose it could be taken literally here.” Paddywhack turned back to look at Negaduck, a smirk on his face. 

 

Negaduck growled, deep in his throat and stood from his crouching position, ignoring the fact that one of his legs had fallen asleep. “What do you want?” 

 

“Besides an answer to my question, a place to live.” 

 

“You really are delusional.” Negaduck dropped his gun to his side. He felt better having it ready rather than tucked away. Even if holstered or cocked and aimed, the gun served the same purpose at this point. 

 

“You aren’t going to make me beg, are you, Negsy? We made such a great team…” 

 

“Until you decided to use the tron-splitter to divide me into a million tiny pieces!” Negaduck itched to rub his leg to ease the pinpricking sensation as circulation returned. Instead, he balled his fingers into a fist.

 

“Yes, and I’m still waiting on an answer as to how—” 

 

Negaduck laughed. He tucked his hands behind his back, still gripping his Glock in one hand firmly, and paced, trying to not limp. “I don’t know what’s funnier: that you think I would tell you how I put myself back together or that you think I would let you stay here.” 

 

“Put yourself back together?” Paddywhack repeated, grinning. “An interesting choice of words. I would bet you had to use Megavolt’s tron-splitter once you’d gathered all your pieces in one place. Reverse the polarity to put yourself together instead of tearing you apart.” 

 

“You would lose your money,” Negaduck said dismissively. Except that was exactly how it had happened. But it wasn’t like he was gonna _tell_ the demented Cheshire clown that. 

 

“Is this how you’re gonna convince me to stay? By guessing how I lived through your attack? Cause I gotta tell you: so far, I’m not impressed.” Negaduck cocked his head and looked up at the villain, wondering what he might be able to do to make him leave. 

 

How had Dipwing Dork been able to defeat Paddywhack _twice_ while Negaduck couldn’t think of how to defeat him even _once_? It was humiliating. 

 

Well.

 

He’d had help. The pilot. Gosalyn. Even Morgana had been there the last time. She’d packed a wallop with her magic. And Launchpad could fly a plane, even if he was good for very little else. 

 

And Gosalyn. 

 

She was always good to have on your side. 

 

Though it was probably for the best that she wasn’t here now. Negaduck would just be distracted.

 

Or maybe more focused.

 

Gosalyn had a remarkable talent for forcing Negaduck to realize what was important. Helping to calm his raging mind and make him see what it was he was fighting for. Focus on getting what he wanted. 

 

So, what did he want? 

 

Paddywhack gone. 

 

Really? Banishing felt an awful lot like fear. Getting rid of something because he didn’t want to deal with it. And Negaduck wasn’t _afraid_. 

 

Let’s try again. 

 

What did he want? 

 

Paddywhack controlled. 

 

That was more like it. 

 

Paddywhack could be useful somewhere down the line. Yeah, maybe Dorkwing had beaten him a few times, but Paddywhack had gotten farther than any other villain. He had the element of magic. And Negaduck could use magic.

 

Now, to convince the deranged whatever- _he_ -was to join Negaduck’s team. 

 

“What is it you’d like to hear?” Paddywhack asked, eyeing Negaduck. And the lord of the Negaverse had to hold back a grin. This was gonna be a piece of cake. 

 

“Something more than your speculation. Your theories on how I came back aren’t getting you anywhere and, at this point, they’re just a waste of my time.” With that, Negaduck holstered his weapon and strode down the street, expertly navigating the potholes and debris. 

 

As he’d anticipated, Paddywhack ran to catch up with him. Negaduck realized that it took the titan only two steps to reach him again. A villain of Paddywhack’s size alone would be beneficial. 

 

“Should I continue to compliment you on your oasis here?” Paddywhack said, jumping in front of Negaduck. The whole block trembled, some loose rubble tumbling down from the surrounding buildings and joining the destruction on the streets. “It really is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.” 

 

Negaduck glanced over his city with pride. “I’ve worked hard to get it to become what it is.” 

 

“Just you?” Paddywhack ventured, raising an eyebrow.

 

No.

 

Of course not just him. 

 

It had all been Gosalyn’s doing. 

 

She’d been the one to give him the idea in the first place on that hideous Duckburg mission a few years ago. And she’d helped him secure his reign here. Gave him the extra bit of concentration to reign in all the villains, make them work _for_ him instead of _with_ him. To start running the place like he owned it. Which, of course, he did. 

 

That Paddywhack would suggest that Negaduck had help was… Perceptive. Negaduck needed to play his cards very close to his chest. 

 

He looked up at the demon duck sharply. “Still not convincing me.” 

 

“You’re right, of course,” Paddywhack said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m afraid all the pain here is going to my brain, making me a little delirious.” 

 

“I remember how you feast on people’s suffering. But I’m very busy. Unless you can make a decent argument in the next minute as to why I should let you stay, I don’t see why I shouldn’t have your little box there,” he nodded over his shoulder to the jack-in-the-box, “incinerated.” 

 

For a split second, Paddywhack’s eyes widened before he grinned again, shrinking down to Negaduck’s size so he could look him in the eye. “I can be very helpful to you,” Paddywhack said.

 

“45 seconds,” Negaduck said, pulling out his book of match and opening the flap.

 

“I could find the villains that don’t want to work for you. I can smell hate, and believe me, they would hate you for the control you have over everything here. But I could lead you right to them. No one would question you again if you fed all the miscreants to _me_.” 

 

Oh, a _bloodhound_. Negaduck hadn’t considered that. It would be helpful. 

 

As long as he kept his dog on a tight leash. 

 

Negaduck eyed Paddywhack for a moment before crossing his arms, fingers still playing with his matches. “I’d need a test run,” he said. 

 

Paddywhack grinned wider. “I would expect nothing less.” 

 

Negaduck inclined his head, peering down his beak at the jester. “Go around tonight and see what you can find. Come to me in the morning with a report. And nothing else.” He pointed his matches at Paddywhack. “I hear of _one_ unplanned death or crime and it’s bye bye boxie.” In a flash, Negaduck yanked out a match and struck it, waving it before Paddywhack’s eyes. 

 

Through the flame’s distortion, Negaduck maintained eye contact with Paddywhack, who looked impressed. With the slightest edge of concern.

 

“Clear?” Negaduck asked.

 

Paddywhack smiled and blew out the match, the smoke wafting into Negaduck’s face. The lord of the Negaverse sneered, jamming the still hot match into Paddywhack’s beak. The jester yelped as Negaduck growled, “Are we clear?” 

 

“Yes.” Paddywhack rubbed the scorch mark on his beak, grinning like a madman. “You’ve changed since we last met. More… focused. Filled with less hate than before.” 

 

Negaduck ignored the jab and tucked his matches away. “You show up here around eleven tomorrow and we’ll see what you’ve come up with.” 

 

Not bothering to look back, Negaduck walked past the villain, striding confidently towards his home. And if he chose the scenic route, twisting and turning down streets that took him out of his way, well, that was only to calm his nerves. 

 

He still hated Paddywhack. And he never was able to shake the feeling of dread that sat in the pit of his stomach like a rock the whole interaction long. Dealing with Paddywhack was dangerous. Maybe even impossible. The pain-seeking clown was certainly more than capable of causing mayhem on his own. Why he was approaching Negaduck for sanctuary when he could just take it by himself was what made Negaduck so nervous. 

 

All he could do now was wait until tomorrow. Show up early and lie in wait for Paddywhack to make an appearance. Negaduck liked to be early to these types of things. Stake out the meeting place and wait for his prey to come to him. 

 

With a few careful glances over his shoulder, Negaduck ducked down Avian Way and jogged to his home, entering through the back door. He did need to go to the hardware store to fix the front door he had kicked in the other day. Maybe there was something to the saloon doors Gosalyn had mentioned. But as a _front_ door? He could look into it. If only to tell her how wrong she’d been the next time he saw her. 

 

Slipping into the kitchen, Negaduck leaned against the back door to shut it, his eyes closing as he breathed, trying to ease the tension that had been there since Paddywhack had appeared. 

 

He could salvage this. He _could_. Turn it in his favor. He’d scared Paddywhack today and that was a start. He could work with fear. 

 

A pair of emerald eyes materialized in his mind’s eye. A mop of red hair and an encouraging smirk. _What did he want_? 

 

Negaduck relaxed with his exhale. Opening his eyes, he glanced around his kitchen for any disturbances. Nothing. He might as well check the rest of his house for intruders. 

 

Finding his energy mostly drained and wanting nothing more than to drop into bed, Negaduck lazily walked through to the living room, eyes and ears alert but otherwise keeping his air of calm.

 

He had everything under control.

 

He knew what he wanted. 

 

A pair of strong hands grabbed him from behind, one taking a vice-like hold of his throat as the other pressed a damp cloth to his beak.

 

So much for being in control.

 

What was with all these surprises today? Did he cross a black cat?

 

Holding his breath, Negaduck struggled, hands reaching for any of the weapons he’d tucked away in his suit. But the attacker pulled Negaduck against him more firmly, fingers tightening around his throat. Immediately, Negaduck’s hands flew up to his neck, trying to pry away the iron grip. 

 

A low chuckle echoed from behind him and Negaduck felt his stomach drop straight down to his toes. 

 

“You always do a perimeter check when you come home. Did I teach you nothing, Drakey?” his attacker purred into his ear. 

 

And there was no arguing it now. 

 

He was not in control. 

 

Terror took over any anger he could hope to conjure. 

 

He was alone.

 

And very afraid.

 

Gasping in surprise, he inhaled whatever was soaked into the cloth still crushed against his beak. His heart jumped up into his throat, beating faster than he’d ever felt it, as he panted, trying desperately to get enough oxygen into his system to calm it down. He even — he’d admit it but only in the darkest recesses of his mind — trembled under the hard grip, his fingers slipping gracelessly from the hand at his throat to hang uselessly at his sides. 

 

His vision softened into fuzzy shapes and colors, his eyes drooping as his body slumped down. A whimper might have escaped him, which he blamed entirely on the chloroform and his weakening resolve. 

 

Another chuckle broke through the black that was growing. Negaduck was able to make out five words from his attacker just before he let the darkness take over. 

 

“It’s good to be home.” 

 


	6. Old Man

Books tend to describe waking up slowly. The author focuses on colors, sounds, temperatures, and other sensations. Specific details to put you in the moments of awaking from sleep. To make you feel that you’re right next to this person waking up. Or that, perhaps, you _are_ this person waking up. 

Movies make it look like it happens all at once. Noise? Jump out of bed. A shift in the light? Stretch with a smile and get up for the day. Alarm goes off? Hit it and begrudgingly roll out of bed. And then the morning routine comes together in a bright little montage with the most current pop song. 

Really, it’s a combination of both. The instant and the gradual. The detail-oriented and the movie montage.  

That’s the state Negaduck was in. Stuck between movie montages and vivid details. 

He was cognizant of voices, felt the cool hard stone beneath him, and became very aware that he was in danger. More than he had been in a long time.

It hadn’t been a dream.

It was a nightmare. 

Opening his eyes slowly, he continued to breathe deeply, not wanting his captor — who was probably responsible for his raging headache — to know that he had awoken. But he was facing a wall. A concrete wall with a small window near the ceiling, bars stretching from top to bottom. Negaduck took in the scratch marks on the wall, the solitary metal toilet in one corner, the edge of a cot in the other. 

A jail cell. He was in one of St. Canard’s jail cells. 

Had it been Darkwing or one of his heroic cronies who had managed to capture him? That was embarrassing. He didn't even remember trying to fight back. 

Because he’d been restrained. Beyond any help of escape unless by some sort of divine intervention. _And_ there had been the rag of chloroform pressed to his beak. 

Then the whispered, “Drakey,” just before he'd lost consciousness.

No. Not Darkwing Duck. If only it _had_ been Darkwing Duck. Embarrassment would be so much easier to deal with than this crushing desperation and full-blown terror. 

So.

He’d finally caught up to Negaduck. After all these years. The darkest foulest villain ever conceived by man. 

“Wakey wakey, Drakey.” said a deep voice causing the feathers on Negaduck’s arms to stand on end. Speaking of the devil… 

Could Negaduck just drop back off into an unconscious oblivion? Was there any way to make _that_ happen? 

“Enough with the pretense,” the voice snapped. There was a loud clink, probably the devil clinking on the jail bars with his talons. “Get up.” 

The tone of command, the conviction with which the order was given, almost made Negaduck roll over and stand on his feet, even if he was still dizzy and his head was pounding so hard that his entire body was pulsing with each heartbeat. 

Almost.

Instead, he moved minutely, curling in on himself to try and feel for any sort of hidden weapons. He practically kept an arsenal on his person at all times, tucked into the folds of his cape and the untold additional pockets to his suit. 

Gone. Empty. Nothing. 

Well, not _nothing_. But a fat lot of good a canister of kerosene and his matches would do. The Glocks his fingers caressed might be worth using; he could turn and blow the man’s head clean off. Which would get him locked away in solitary confinement. 

It would be _so_ worth it. 

But did he want to give away the fact that he had weapons? 

“Drakey. I’m waiting.” 

The demanding voice deciding for him, Negaduck turned, his hands moving away from his weapons until he had a better idea of what he was up against. He glanced over his shoulder to send a glare at the man who had ruined everything in Negaduck’s life. 

And there he stood. In all his glory. 

Stellar Mallard. _Agent_ Stellar Mallard if the rumors were to be believed. Who he had hoodwinked to get into S.H.U.S.H., Negaduck didn’t know. But it didn’t surprise him that Stellar had succeeded. When the man wanted something, he got it. 

Stellar sent him a sickening grin, Negaduck’s stomach dropping as his breath caught in his throat. More than anything, Negaduck loathed how Stellar still had this effect on him, even after all these years. 

“My, it has been a _long_ time, hasn’t it?” Stellar said, folding his hands behind his back, a pleased look spreading over his face, turning those handsome lined features into a mask of dread. 

“Not long enough,” Negaduck growled low in his throat, moving to sit up. His head protested with a resounding painful _thud_ and Negaduck fought back a grimace. He would _not_ give Stellar the satisfaction that he’d already hurt him. 

“I see you haven’t changed. That probably accounts for how unsuccessful you’ve been, Drakey. I tried to tell you how far good manners will take you.” 

“I’ve done just fine not listening to you.” Negaduck, now sitting, sent Stellar another glare.

Stellar only laughed, a low chuckle that sent shivers down Negaduck’s spine. “Clearly. Still living in the same house you ran away to? I never pegged you for a sentimentalist.” 

Negaduck didn’t say anything, suddenly wanting to sit on the bed even if the flat mattress wouldn’t be much different than the concrete flooring. He stood slowly, wishing he could have withheld the grunt he loosed with the effort. 

“Perhaps not sentimental as much as lazy,” Stellar said, clicking his tongue with disapproval. 

“If it’s so obvious where I’ve been, why weren’t you able to find me sooner?” Negaduck snapped, shakily walking over to the bed. 

“Maybe because I had higher hopes for your future. Thought you’d make something of yourself. Go somewhere. Do something.” 

“Just chalk it up as another one of your disappointments,” Negaduck said as he sunk down onto the mattress. Stellar grinned maliciously as an expression of relief spread over Negaduck’s face as he sunk into the thin padding.

“How _did_ you figure it out?” Negaduck asked, trying to turn the conversation away from disappointments and how lazy he’d been. “That I was staying there?” 

Stellar chuckled, starting to pace the length of the cell. “I did something that you would never even consider, Drakey. I asked for help.” 

Negaduck scoffed. “S.H.U.S.H. doesn’t know where I live. So you’ll need to be a little more specific.” 

Stellar nodded, a look of disappointment drawing his greying brows low over his eyes. “I had hoped S.H.U.S.H. would wield some results when it came to destroying you, but they’re entirely useless. Not even F.O.W.L. and their extensive library on their agents had anything of use on you. I will grant you that; you’ve kept an air of mystery so that no one can predict what you’ll do next.” 

Negaduck didn’t take the compliment.

“But,” Stellar continued, “I used my resources. Little as they were.” He looked to Negaduck again, slate eyes glinting with a malicious glee that set Negaduck’s teeth on edge. 

“Christine, dear. Would you mind coming over here, please?” 

Negaduck’s heart skidded to a halt. 

He’d underestimated Stellar. Again.

Stellar had managed to recruit the one person who was actually useful to taking Negaduck down. Did Stellar know about their connection? That he was working with someone who had a personal history with Negaduck? Because, dear lord, if he did… 

All Negaduck could focus on was trying to hide the panic from his face. 

And then, there she was. Her hair dyed to a mousy brown and hanging loose around her face in soft waves. With those eyes. The large emerald irises holding so much more hope and so much less intelligence. The sight of them reminded Negaduck to keep breathing. Nice and slow. 

Christine nodded at him, her fingers folding in front of her. “Negaduck,” she said softly. 

He’d heard of her name change and, while it helped him further separate Gosalyn from Christine, he still found something utterly sacrilegious about changing who she was. Altering the flame red hair. Hiding behind a new name. 

Gosalyn would _never_ … 

But that was just the point wasn’t it? _Gosalyn_ would never. _Christine_ , however… 

Negaduck nodded back at her. And he must have shown some of his fury in his expression because she winced, backing away slightly. Stellar set a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. Negaduck jerked, ready to jump up and fight the old man off. 

But he stayed where he was. 

Because it was _Christine_. Not _Gosalyn_. Christine he would not fight for. She’d made her decision to leave him long ago. Now, she had to suffer the consequences. 

“Glad to see you remember her,” Stellar said, moving those bony fingers over Christine’s shoulder in what he probably imagined was a comforting manner. “She was instrumental in capturing you. I am eager to see what else she knows that even S.H.U.S.H. and F.O.W.L. do not.” 

“Did she bring up _how_ she knows me?” Negaduck asked, curious. _Just curious_. And he saw how the words hit Christine, the girl shifting uncomfortably as she dropped her gaze to the floor. 

Did she feel _bad_ about this? The girl had no conviction. 

“I’m sure it will come up. It seemed a tad ludicrous to go into personal histories when she knew your old address and we were able to capture you so quickly. Or, I suppose I should say, she knew your _only_ address. Except for one other. Remember that other address, Drakey?” 

He tried not to. But the farther he ran, it seemed the closer it was. And right now it was here, breathing down his neck, hot steamy breaths reminding him of what he so desperately was trying to forget. 

In the silence, as Negaduck refused to look at Stellar and the old man stubbornly kept his eyes trained on the younger villain, Christine broke in with, “What address?” 

Negaduck _did_ look up then and saw exactly what he expected to find on Stellar’s face: derision, annoyance, and a healthy dose of disappointment. Because if there was one thing Stellar hated, it was those who were slower on the uptake. How many times had Negaduck been called stupid because his brain didn’t work at the same level as Stellar’s? 

The older duck dropped his talon-like hand from Christine’s shoulder, a pained smile on his beak. “Our surname is the same. I call him ‘Drakey’. He has only lived at _one_ other address in his whole life before that pathetic excuse of a house on … what was it?” Stellar glanced at Negaduck. “Avian Way?” He shook his head before he looked back to Christine. “Can you come to any conclusions with that information?” 

To anyone else, it might have looked like Stellar was teaching a student, that he was trying to explain something. But Negaduck knew better. Stellar was testing Christine. A predator circling its prey deciding whether or not she was worthy of being his partner or his dinner.

And the way she glanced between Stellar and Negaduck with a blank expression did not bode well for her. Eventually, Stellar’s sigh broke the silence.

“There’s this thing called ‘deductive reasoning’, my dear. You should try to use it sometime.” Stellar peered at Negaduck again, that malignant grin back in place. 

“Drakey,” Stellar said by way of farewell, walking away. He lingered in the doorway for Christine, who was still standing by Negaduck’s cell. 

“What address?” Christine pressed, peering at Negaduck through the steel bars. 

Negaduck sneered. “You _left_. And now you’ve trapped me in here. If you think I’m gonna help you, then you’re delusional.” 

Christine blinked — those big green orbs nearly making Negaduck apologize — and nodded, turning and trotting after Stellar. It made Negaduck sick to his stomach, how desperate she was to please the older duck. She would see soon enough just who she’d signed up to work with. That the devil didn’t live down in Hell; he walked around like an ordinary person. Convinced everyone else that he was just like them. That was his greatest achievement. 

“I’ll return later, Drakey,” Stellar said, glee lightening his voice. “I anticipate you and I will have a lot of long _talks_ in the future.Your secrets won’t stay yours for much longer.” 

Negaduck shuddered as Stellar slammed the door shut.

He was all of the sudden seven years old again, cowering under his bed as he heard Stellar burst through the front door and declare, “Daddy’s home.” 

Negaduck drew his knees up to his chest, hugging them tight and hating himself for how much his hands trembled when he thought of spending any more time with his father. 

 

 


	7. We Are Young

The door crashed to the floor amidst a dust cloud that would give Ammonia Pine an aneurism. Gosalyn rolled her eyes as she walked inside, not even bothering to prop the still broken door back in the doorway. 

“You’re getting lazy in your old age!” she called, her voice echoing down the decrepit dusty hall. She glanced around, waiting for Negaduck to pound down the stairs or out from the kitchen at any moment; he was so touchy about his age.

But there was nothing. No thundering footsteps. No grumbles. No … anything. The house was empty. Rooms were nothing more than vacant caverns that her flashlight bounced around.

Shrugging her duffel bag more firmly on her shoulder, Gosalyn tried to ignore the growing unease settling in her gut as she walked from room to room, looking for Negaduck.

The living room was untouched, couch cushions sliced open and spilling out their soft contents. Weapons littered the floor, abandoned for a bigger brother or deconstructed, some of its more vital parts taken and installed in something else. The TV screen was cracked and sitting on its side. 

And still no sign of Negaduck. 

Maybe the kitchen?

Other than a few new dishes piled atop dirtier counterparts in the sink, everything looked untouched from her last visit. Negaduck’s dirty dish tower really was a thing of beauty; each of them precariously stacked on top of one another in such a precise way that gravity couldn’t drag it down. Eventually, Negaduck would grow bored with the current tower and grab one of the foundation dishes, sending the rest of them crashing to the ground in a mess of broken porcelain. Then he’d start all over again, carefully balancing each dirty dish in the sink, one on top of the other, until he decided to send it crumbling back down again.

Assuming Negaduck had to be on the second level, Gosalyn took the stairs two at a time, scanning her bedroom with her flashlight before she tossed the duffel onto the bed. 

“I think Dad’s onto us,” Gosalyn explained, her voice raised. Just because Negaduck hadn’t shown himself yet didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t here. He could be planning some sort of surprise attack. It wasn’t like him to plan surprise attacks — he preferred to hit hard, fast and with as much chaos as he could muster — but it was not out of the realm of possibilities. After all, Gosalyn wouldn’t be expecting a surprise attack from him, so it would be the perfect time to execute one. 

She stayed alert as she continued talking into the silence, trying to appear as calm as possible to keep him off guard. “I’m leaving my Quiverwing costumes here until he gets less suspicious,” Gosalyn unpacked her Negaverse Quiverwing tunic and pants, hanging them up in her closet. She screwed up her face as she grabbed one of her capes. Even the plastic wrapping around it couldn’t hold back the pungent scent from wafting up her nose. 

“The dry cleaners couldn’t do anything with the smell. And I took the cape to a couple different places. Remind me to thank Jambalaya Jake for his swamp gas.” 

Gosalyn tossed the offending cape on the floor at the foot of her bed. The others she carefully hung up with her hero costumes. 

Okay, seriously, if Negaduck was going to make his move, it had to be _now_. Right? This was just getting ridiculous. 

“Anyway,” she continued, “Dad’s paranoid. To a new extreme. He hasn’t come out and said anything yet, but I know he thinks we’re working together. Which, I mean, we are. So… I’m handling it. Sort of. Trying to handle it.” 

And by “handling it” she meant she was hiding all the evidence that she and Negaduck were in any way affiliated. 

She had packed last night when her father was out busting criminals; Gosalyn swinging back home after Launchpad and Darkwing had taken off in the Thunderquack. She put her bag together, including her newly laundered Negaverse Quiverwing costumes, even the foul-smelling cape from her encounter with the bayou duo. (Seriously, thanks a _million_ Jake. She’d probably smell like a swamp for the rest of her life.) After getting everything together, she’d done a sweep of her room, making sure anything she’d brought home from the Negaverse would go back there into hiding. Until her father got less paranoid. 

Or until he got distracted by something else. Because, really, he was _always_ paranoid. 

Not that his paranoia wasn’t warranted this time. Gosalyn _was_ in league with Darkwing’s arch-iest of arch nemeses. 

His words. 

_“You seem to be out doing a lot of recon work on your own,”_ Darkwing had said a few days ago when Gosalyn had returned home after wrapping up the Steelbeak conundrum in the Negaverse. _“Any leads or new information you wanna share with the class?”_

_“Not really.”_ Gosalyn had smiled at Launchpad, high five-ing him as way of a hello. 

_“I haven’t seen Negaduck — my arch-iest of my arch nemeses — lately. I was wondering if you might know something about it.”_

_“Why would I know anything about Negaduck?”_ Gosalyn had asked. Lied.

Darkwing had sighed. _“The Darkwing Duck team is exactly that, Gosalyn. A_ team _. We need to work_ together _to take down the villains that are violating this vivacious…”_

_“… Village?”_ Gosalyn had offered, raising an eyebrow at her father. 

_“No, no, I can do better! Um… Work together to take down the bad guys who are bamboozling our beloved…”_  

_“Quit while you’re ahead,”_ Gosalyn had mentioned, sharing a smile with Launchpad.

_“No, really, I’ve got this! Work together to take down the scoundrels who are… No! The desperadoes who are desecrating…”_

Needless to say, he didn’t bring up teamwork again that night. But he had been using the words “team” and “honest” and “together” a lot more lately.

Which meant he’d figured it out. 

Probably. 

He was, at the very least, onto something. 

Whether it was the “Gosalyn was partnering with Negaduck in his crime boss takeover of the Negaverse” something remained to be seen. 

But Gosalyn didn’t like to take chances. 

Hence… 

“Well, if you aren’t gonna show, I’m just going back to St. Canard. And if you’re not here, and I am starting to think you aren’t, then I feel really dumb.” 

Gosalyn trudged back down the stairs, her eyes rolling heavenward when her flashlight beam landed on the front door, the wooden portal lying where she’d left it in the hall. 

Which cinched it. 

Negaduck wasn’t home. 

So she’d been talking to herself the whole time. 

Fantastic. 

“Seriously, how hard is it to fix a door?” she muttered. She picked it up and propped it in the doorframe on her way out. Negaduck would be pissed when he came home and found the door lying in the hall. More realistically, he’d probably freak and nuke the place, convinced that someone had broken in. Then he’d need to change his base of operations and Gosalyn had just started to get comfortable in the Negaverse version of her home, so moving would be just the _worst_. 

Lightly leaping over cracks in the pavement and expertly weaving through the rusting cars in the streets, Gosalyn picked her way back through the Negaverse to the Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice Bakery. 

She had once asked why Negaduck had chosen such a normal place for his portal into the prime universe — Gosalyn’s home — and he’d muttered something about not being the first one to find it and, so, he hadn’t been the one who’d decided where it was. And when she’d pointed out that he could have picked a whole new location when he’d rebuilt the bridge between the universes after Darkwing had destroyed the first one, Negaduck had glowered at her. He’d said that _obviously_ he had to use the same building as before; it would be the thing everyone least expected. 

Duh. 

How could she even consider another option? 

Heading to the back of the bakery, she jumped into the cake that served as the portal between the Negaverse and her own St. Canard.

It had taken her some time to get used to floating between one doorway and another, mostly because the portal left her weightless. 

Her first voyage, with Negaduck as her guide, had sent her spiraling into a panic attack, her heart racing and vision tunneling as she gasped in short breaths. When Negaduck had told her it was like swimming, she’d nearly passed out, unable to get enough oxygen through her quick gasps for air. Quickly realizing his mistake, Negaduck had gently grabbed her face — the first time he’d willingly reached for her — forced her to look into his clear blue eyes, and reminded her she wasn’t under water. That she was able to breathe. All they were doing was going from her universe to his. The shining doors were what they were moving towards. She could breathe the whole time. She could even walk if she wanted, it was just easier to fly through weightlessly. 

For someone who pulverized anything in his path when he lost his Public Enemy #1 status, Negaduck was very good at talking someone out of a panic attack. He’d managed to get Gosalyn to the Negaverse and then took her back home later that night. He wouldn’t let her travel through the portal on her own for weeks, convinced it would trigger another attack, but Gosalyn had slowly learned to trust the portal and was soon able to travel between universes effortlessly. 

Climbing through her universe’s door, she inhaled deeply before walking through, reminding herself to move slowly and with as little noise as possible. She didn’t know where her father was. He’d left with Launchpad after hearing about a break in at the jewelry store off of 5th and Main earlier that night, but Darkwing and Launchpad could have already saved the jewels from getting burgled by now. They could be anywhere in St. Canard. She really should invest in some sort of tracking system so she wouldn’t have to rely on a hope and prayer every time she climbed back into her world. 

Okay. Game plan: return to Darkwing Tower. It was an easy enough location to come and go from freely without her father asking too many questions. The jewelry store that was robbed was in the heart of town, the main roads and more populated areas the best way to get there. She should be able to jump out of the cake, sneak out of the bakery, then go the back way to Audubon Bay, taking the quieter streets to the Bridge, all without being seen. 

No fuss, no muss. 

Except that all got blown to hell as she popped out of the cake to find her father and Launchpad standing there, waiting for her. 

Launchpad gave her a weak smile, glancing at Darkwing who looked absolutely furious, his brow furrowed, his eyes reduced to slits. His arms were crossed, his hands fisting the material of his costume, as he eyed Gosalyn. 

Well, then. Better think of something. 

“Would this be a bad time to tell you that I’ve been planning your birthday party?” Gosalyn asked, the explanation spilling out of her beak faster than her brain could keep up.

“Explain to me, young lady, why you’re coming out of the Negaverse at this time of night.” 

“The Negaverse?” Gosalyn asked, her voice just a little _too_ high. “I was seeing which of these cakes would be best to jump out of. You know, for your birthday. That I’ve been planning. And would explain all my disappearances.” 

Darkwing tapped his webbed foot on the ground and glared up at her. Gosalyn sighed, swinging her legs out of the cake and sliding down to the floor. 

“You mentioned you hadn’t seen Negaduck in awhile. I found the portal to the Negaverse a few months ago and I thought I’d go see what he was up to.” Wow. That was… A decent explanation.

“Really?” Darkwing asked, giving her that look that said he didn’t believe a word of what she was saying. 

“Really,” Gosalyn returned. Her story was a good one; she was sticking to it. 

“I think you should listen to her, DW,” Launchpad said, glancing at Gosalyn before looking to his best friend. “Gosalyn wouldn’t…” 

But Gosalyn would. And had. Launchpad knew it.

He had suspected her far longer than her father — the pilot was amazingly perceptive — and he’d come right out and asked her if she’d been visiting the Negaverse. It had taken Gosalyn a moment to recover, but she’d come clean. 

Mostly clean. 

She’d confessed to helping Negaduck build up his criminal empire, but only because he was giving her unlimited access to his schedule of villainous activity in St. Canard. Launchpad had been disappointed, which was worse than him yelling, but he’d only asked her three questions: 

_“Are you safe?”_

_“Will you eventually tell DW?”_

_“Do you need any help?”_

And he’d kept her secret, believing that she needed to be the one to tell Darkwing the truth. But Launchpad grew uneasy the longer she kept it from her father. He still helped her, though, despite his conflicted conscious. He’d go out and buy her ibuprofen, heat pads, wrist braces, or anything she needed after a Negaverse caper. Every time, he’d suggest she tell Darkwing and every time she’d promise she would. 

Eventually. 

Well. It seemed now was the _eventually_ she’d been talking about. 

“Oh, Gosalyn _wouldn’t_ , would she?” Darkwing said, glaring at Launchpad before turning back to his daughter. “I want the truth, young lady. What have you been doing in the Negaverse?” 

Gosalyn looked to Launchpad, who nodded and smiled at her, then to her father who was glowering under his violet fedora. Should she tell him? Just get it all out in the open? It would make things a lot easier. 

And a whole lot more complicated. 

She’d played this game before. Had told her father the plan that she’d concocted with Negaduck in Duckburg. Confessed every detail of their first heist together, even going so far as to admit that she had become partners with Negaduck just to take him down later. Which hadn’t been apart of her plan at all. But it sounded good and helped to add some weight to her story.

Unfortunately, Negaduck had overheard Gosalyn’s confession. 

It had not gone well. 

Negaduck had threatened her within an inch of her life and then disappeared for weeks.

But he had moved past it. He usually held a grudge, enacting his revenge after carefully planning out how he was going to make someone suffer. The fact that he’d actually decided to move on from what Gosalyn had done so that they could have a working relationship had been enough to make Gosalyn swear to never betray him again. 

His trust was fragile and not given away easily. 

And as much as she loved her father, she also loved Negaduck. 

Inhaling deeply, Gosalyn let her breath out with, “Exactly what I told you, Dad. Trying to keep tabs on Negaduck.” 

Darkwing didn’t rant. He didn’t demand to be told the real truth. He didn’t roll his eyes or walk away or shake his head. 

He just _deflated_. Closed his eyes as his shoulders slumped and he uncrossed his arms, his hands dangling at his sides. The defeated stance, and the utter _disappointment_ that shone from his eyes when he opened them again, nearly caused Gosalyn to confess everything right then and there. 

But she held herself back. 

She’d gotten better at seeing how things played out before she made her move, carefully calculating risks and trying to get everything to play out in her favor. She’d also gotten better at lying. At separating her feelings from a case. 

She blamed Negaduck for that. 

She also blamed him for teaching her different combat techniques. Showing her different shooting tips depending on the weapon she had at her disposal. Demonstrating how to take down anyone with a few skilled moves in hand-to-hand combat. 

He’d taught her as much good as he had bad.

But Negaduck wasn’t her father. And nothing Negaduck had taught her could take away the tightness in her chest as she watched Darkwing’s downfall weigh on him.

“Dad—” 

He held up a hand to silence her. “If you want me to think you’ve been running around _looking for_ Negaduck instead of running _alongside_ him, then fine. I just…” he sighed. “I don’t know when you stopped trusting me, Gos. I’m not upset that you’ve been hanging out with Negaduck—” 

“Really?” Gosalyn interrupted, cocking an eyebrow at him. 

“Okay, yes, I _am_ upset about that, but I’m more upset that you lied about it. Like you were afraid that I couldn’t handle it.” 

“But you _couldn’t_ , Dad. How was I supposed to tell you anything about this… weird partnership without you freaking out?” 

“I would have adjusted.” 

Gosalyn loosed a tight laugh. “Now who’s lying?” 

Darkwing shook his head, the movements slow as he brought up a hand to scrub his face. And his look of _defeat_ just broke Gosalyn’s heart. 

“Dad, I’m sorry—” 

Darkwing shook his head. “No, just. Don’t. We’re going home.” He turned to walk out of the bakery, then seemed to think better of it, looking back at her and saying, “You should stop by the St. Canard police station tomorrow.” 

Gosalyn bit back her sarcastic remark of, _“Why, so I can turn myself in?”_ Knowing now was _really_ not the time for quips, she just stuck with the, “Why?” 

“Negaduck was arrested a few days ago.” 

“What?!” Gosalyn asked, her own posture falling. Arrested? There was no way…

“Only a few people know. They’ve wanted to keep it out of the media so his henchmen wouldn’t be alerted because they have plans to capture everyone in the Negaverse.” 

Gosalyn had a million questions — mostly centered around who “they” were — but she swallowed her concern for Negaduck and buried her sarcasm. Because underneath his disappointment, Darkwing still loved her. Loved her enough to tell her that her friend, his arch-iest of arch nemeses, had been arrested so she could help him. 

She nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah, sure. I’ll-I’ll go.” 

The silence surrounded them for a few moments, broken by Darkwing walking out of the bakery. Gosalyn and Launchpad followed, Launchpad patting her on the back reassuringly. They found Darkwing standing by the Thunderquack, waiting for them. 

“Can we please go home?” he asked. Wearily. Like he had nothing left to give. 

Gosalyn climbed into the Thunderquack without a word, Darkwing and Launchpad not far behind. They took off for Darkwing Tower, Darkwing shedding his mask and fedora on the ride home. 

Gosalyn broke the silence by saying, “I really am sorry, Dad.” 

“You probably are, Gos. And so am I.” 

 


	8. The Hanging Tree

“Can I help you?” asked an officer sitting behind the reception desk. 

Gosalyn approached the desk and folded her hands neatly on top of it. “I’m here to see Negaduck.” 

“He isn’t allowed visitors.” The officer gave her a pinched smile as the phone started to ring. He swiveled around in his chair and answered the call. 

Gosalyn reached across the desk and pushed down the receiver. “I totally understand. But I’m not gonna leave until I see him.” 

“I don’t think you understand, miss,” the officer said, slamming down the phone, a look of disappointment crossing his face when he missed Gosalyn’s fingers. “He doesn’t get to see anybody.” 

“But listen, listen,” Gosalyn said, leaning forward so she was beak to beak with the officer, “I am _going to_ see him. Your permission is just a formality.” 

The officer stood and glowered down at her. “You don’t get my permission and you’ll be in that empty cell next to him.” 

“Yeah. Exactly.” Gosalyn crossed her arms. “Which way do you want to do this?” 

The officer grinned, unclipping a pair of handcuffs from his belt.

Gosalyn snapped her fingers as she said, “Oh, almost forgot!” Reaching into her jeans pocket, she pulled out a form that her father had signed for her that morning. He’d given his and S.H.U.S.H.’s permission for Gosalyn to see the “prisoner” for as long as she wanted.

Darkwing still wasn’t really speaking to Gosalyn. He just shot her long sad looks filled with disappointment and despair, which was so much worse than him yelling or lecturing or grounding her. But he’d allowed her to go see Negaduck, so maybe he did trust her.

A little.

Deep down.

Really deep down.  

The officer grabbed the slip of paper and scanned it, his eyebrows drawing together first in confusion then in frustration the more he read. 

Gosalyn gave him her sweetest smile, and if this man knew her better he would know he should run the other way. Having reached the signatures, the officer’s fingers twitched.

Sensing his good manners, such as they were, had started to disappear, Gosalyn said, “If I could just…” she reached forward and took the paper from the officer’s grip. “Thanks. And is there a pass or something that I get? Or will my get out of jail free card,” she brandished the permission slip, “work just as well?” 

The officer muttered something as he dug in the drawer and flung a visitor’s pass at her. 

“You’re a doll,” she said with a wink and a smirk as she slipped the pass over her head and let it hang around her neck. Before the officer could do anything else or threaten to keep her overnight for “disturbing the peace” or whatever, Gosalyn hightailed it down to the jail cells in the basement.

She’d been down there a few times with her father, always after they’d captured a villain and were interrogating them. The cells were temporary, meant to hold the big time criminals for only a day or two while a more permanent arrangement was settled for them in St. Canard Prison. They also worked for holding someone overnight. Drunkards. Juvies. Anyone who just needed to be scared into following the rules. 

But Negaduck had been down here for a few days. Maybe a week. Gosalyn was already kicking herself for how long it had taken her to realize that Negaduck was gone. She should have known. Seen a detail in the news or in the Darkwing Tower files. Realized that something was _off_. 

He’d never been captured when he and Gosalyn were friends. She’d never come to see him when he was at an all time low. 

That wasn’t true. He’d been so hurt he’d set a whole block of businesses on fire. So scared that he’d blown up a whole fleet of cargo ships. So depressed that he’d holed himself up in his bedroom after having smashed and destroyed every piece of furniture and knick knack that was in there. 

So, yes, Gosalyn _had_ seen him when he was upset and hurt and sad. 

But which Negaduck would she be seeing today? Because he couldn’t take out his anger on anything other than himself while he was in prison and she shuddered at the thought of how far he might have already gone… 

It was eerily quiet as she descended the stairs. Awkwardly still as she flashed her pass and her note to the guard out front of the cells. And when the door was opened and she stepped into the dank holding cell basement, she felt as if all the life was being sucked out of her. 

The room held three small jail cells lining one wall. Bars were the only things that separated one cell to the next and the visitor from the prisoner. There was only one cell occupied at the moment, though Gosalyn had to really look for him in the dim lighting. 

He didn’t look up when she stepped into the room. Didn’t move from his fetal position on his prison cot when the door slammed shut behind her. For half a terrifying second, Gosalyn didn’t even think he was _breathing_. But then he sighed, resigned, and Gosalyn released a relieved huff of her own. 

Like a star that had gone supernova, Negaduck had collapsed in on himself.

She couldn’t have that. 

Hyper-aware of how loud her footsteps were, Gosalyn strolled around the room casually, eyes flitting across the dark patches of mold in the ceiling. She tried not to breathe in too deeply, the rank stale air already permeating her t-shirt and jeans. 

“Hands down, this has got to be the worst place you’ve ever stayed,” Gosalyn said, careful to keep Negaduck in her peripheral vision as she continued to survey the cells. Even if she wasn’t keeping an eye on him, she wouldn’t have been able to miss the shaky intake of breath when he heard her voice. He really _was_ miserable here. 

“And that’s saying a lot,” Gosalyn continued, knowing it was important to keep rambling. To bring in normalcy for Negaduck. Give him a ladder with which he could climb out of whatever dark hold he’d fallen into. 

“Cause I visited your place yesterday and it’s a mess,” she said, finally glancing over at Negaduck. He’d gone so far as to sit up and was looking at her with undisguised _relief_ in his eyes that practically broke Gosalyn’s heart. “More of a mess than usual. Are you ever going to fix your front door? Because it’s becoming a safety hazard at this point. 

“But anyway.” Gosalyn walked over to his cell as he watched her, his eyes focused on her face, his beak twitching upwards every now and then as she continued. “Dad’s onto us. Figured it out. So I took all my Negaverse stuff to your place and I stashed it in my room. On top of the broken door and the miles of dust, you can look forward to swamp gas stink on your next visit. Remind me to punch Jambalaya Jake in his weird bearded face the next time I see him, because I couldn’t get the stench out of my cape even though I took it to three different dry cleaners.” 

Gosalyn took ahold of the bars of Negaduck’s cell, leaning against them. “ _Three_. I didn’t even know there were three different dry cleaners until I started looking for them and they are _everywhere_. Like fast food. Or Starducks. When are you getting out?” 

Negaduck rolled his eyes, which caused Gosalyn to grin; he was on his way back to normal. “Because the reason I haven’t broken out yet is that it’s just _so nice_ here,” he said, his voice rough from disuse. Gosalyn winced at the sound, her chest constricting when she considered what he might have been put through that would cause his vocal chords that much strain. 

“Okay, well, I don’t want to have to deal with the cop upstairs every time I come visit you. He was at the reception desk and gave me _so much_ attitude. So, we’re getting you out.” 

“We?” Negaduck asked, folding his hands in his lap. His fedora was tucked underneath the cot, his cape was folded neatly next to it. In just his yellow jacket and black mask, he looked much less intimidating. The cape added a lot of volume to his otherwise slender frame. 

Gosalyn shrugged. “Clearly you need help or you would have busted out on your own by now.”

Negaduck glanced down and Gosalyn saw the self-loathing rising in his face. That curl of the beak and furrowing of the brows that bespoke of frustration at himself. 

“I’m sorry,” Gosalyn said, dropping her sarcasm in a rush to get him to focus on her rather than on himself. “For not realizing you were arrested sooner. It’s my fault you’ve been in here for so long.” 

“Don’t,” Negaduck said, shaking his head and scooting to the edge of the cot. Was he in pain? Is that why he hadn’t stood up yet, because he _couldn’t_?

Anger boiling up within her, Gosalyn asked, “Who arrested you?” 

Negaduck seemed to snap out of whatever he was thinking, because he looked up at her, a renewed sense of purpose burning in his gaze. “You have to leave, Gos.” 

She might have listened. 

Okay, she wouldn’t have listened. 

Especially not after Negaduck called her “Gos.” He never called her that. Rarely even called her “Gosalyn.” He was clearly at the end of his emotional rope and she was ready to strangle whoever was responsible. 

“I came in here to help you, not banter then leave,” she said.

“It’s all you _can_ do right now. Get out before—” 

He was cut off by the door clanging open behind Gosalyn. She turned, wondering who was coming to visit Negaduck. Probably the person responsible for his capture in the first place. Or his “interrogator.” A glance at Negaduck before their new visitor came in made her blood run cold. 

His eyes were blown wide in terror and he’d scooted as far back on the cot as he could. 

Oh, this guy was _dead_. 

Gosalyn fisted her hands and faced the door, anger painted clearly on her face.

An older duck came into the room, grey feathers combed into an old WWII hairstyle, parted along the side and brushed downwards. He had to duck into the room, his thin frame making him look all the taller. His skeletal hands tucked themselves behind his back as he entered, his sharp grey eyes taking in the scene before him. They brightened when they landed on Gosalyn, a small smile emerging on his large beak. 

He looked familiar… 

“I see Jim wasn’t lying. Drakey does have a visitor.” 

Drakey. This old coot called Negaduck _Drakey_? Gosalyn’s dislike for him mounted with each passing moment. 

“Nice of Jim to be civil with _you_ , Mr… I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met,” Gosalyn said, all sickeningly sweet. 

“Mallard. Agent Stellar Mallard.” He stood tall, smirking down at her. 

Gosalyn glanced between Stellar and Negaduck. “Mallard?” she questioned, eyebrows raising as she connected the dots. 

They were related. 

Darkwing didn’t have any living relatives and had been an only child. His parents, too, hadn't had any siblings. 

So, it was safe to assume Negaduck didn’t have any living relatives either. 

Well, clearly, there was _one_ living relative standing before her. Negaduck’s — not Darkwing’s — relative if the villain’s reaction to Stellar was anything to go by. 

So, then… if Stellar looked familiar and was calling Negaduck  _Drakey_ and they were related and Negaduck was _terrified_ of him… 

They had to be… 

Father and son. 

Well, they didn’t _have_ to be, but it was the familial relationship that made the most sense.

She swallowed as she glanced up at Stellar, eyes now seeing the resemblance all the more clearly. 

So. 

Negaduck’s father was still living. 

Alright, then. 

Stellar glanced back to someone behind him, a long hand extending towards Gosalyn as he intoned, “See that? It’s called deductive reasoning.” 

Gosalyn caught sight of Stellar’s counterpart and blinked, wondering if there was a mirror that she’d missed upon her entry. 

No. Not a mirror. This girl’s hair was brown. And — ew! — curled. But her eyes were the same shade of green as Gosalyn’s. The same shape. She had the same face, the same build… 

She had to be Gosalyn’s Negaverse counterpart. NegaGosalyn. 

This got better and better. 

“And this is my first time meeting _you_ ,” Gosalyn said, sticking with the sweet act, but she was sure there was some venom leaking through by now. She ever could keep her anger hidden.

“Christine,” said the girl, nodding as she introduced herself. 

“I know who you are.” But not that she’d changed her name. What was wrong with “Gosalyn” anyway? 

Stellar glanced between the two girls briefly before his eyes landed back on Gosalyn. “Jim may have been impressed with your S.H.U.S.H. permission slip—” 

“He had a funny way of showing it,” Gosalyn interrupted.

Stellar raised a single eyebrow at her outburst and continued, “But I’m afraid Drakey needs to remain in isolation.” 

“Well, I think Drakey has been subjected to some illegal torture,” Gosalyn spat, crossing her arms and glaring up at Stellar. 

Negaduck was clearly terrified of his father but Gosalyn wasn’t. Maybe that was foolhardy, because anything that scares Negaduck is pretty damn scary, but she _couldn’t_ be afraid. This man had hurt Negaduck, probably in more ways than just the physical, and Gosalyn was irate on her friend’s behalf. 

“His time in here does not concern you, child,” Stellar said, his tone icy. Gosalyn sneered up at him. “He is a criminal mastermind with knowledge on where the other villains of St. Canard live and what they intend to do to this fair city.” 

“Wanna try another lie?” Gosalyn asked. “I don’t believe that you care about St. Canard for a second.” 

Something flashed in Stellar’s eyes but he smiled down at Gosalyn, straightening his spine and strolling around the room. “Drakey has broken every law. Is number two on St. Canard’s Public Enemy List—”

“Dr. Slug really gets around,” Gosalyn mentioned, interrupting Stellar again as she glanced back at Negaduck. His eyes were bouncing back and forth between his father and Gosalyn as if they were contestants in a tennis match.

“He has earned the consequences of his actions,” Stellar said, his voice hardening. Probably annoyed that Gosalyn kept interrupting him. “If anyone deserves a little brutality, it’s Drakey.” 

“No one _deserves_ brutality,” Gosalyn said, turning to look at Stellar again. He’d stopped walking and was standing near her, slate eyes watching her carefully. “Does S.H.U.S.H. know about your tactics?” 

“S.H.U.S.H. is aware that I am a man of action and deliver what I promise. And I’ve promised them the Negaverse. And everyone in it.” 

Gosalyn couldn’t help it. 

She laughed. 

Which _really_ pissed Stellar off if the frown twisting down his beak was any indication. 

But, really, she _had_ to laugh. Because that was so dumb, to think that he could just have S.H.U.S.H. move into the Negaverse. Take over and arrest everyone to bring peace and justice to the city. It had its own set of rules. Most of the population consisted of criminals. Trying to start an upstanding city when there as nothing left to stand on was ludicrous. 

Christine probably had something to do with this. Christine and her little boy band of superheroes-turned-police-force. The people in the Negaverse who didn’t want their help — which was pretty much everyone — were just annoyed by them. The people who did need their help often didn’t get it because they were incompetent heroes. 

But they tried. Gosalyn would give them that. They tried _so hard_. 

They just always failed. 

Negaduck didn’t even consider them a real threat, much too preoccupied with keeping the really dangerous criminals on his payroll as opposed to fighting them for dominance. 

This stank of Stellar’s power hungry tendencies — Gosalyn _had_ just met the guy, but it was so _obvious_ — and Christine’s desperate need for validation. Either way. Doomed to fail. 

“You find us wanting to transform the Negaverse into something habitable for decent citizens laughable?” Stellar asked. 

“Yeah,” Gosalyn said, shrugging. “If you really want to reform the Negaverse, you would need to go about it a whole different way.” 

“I’ve seen her running around with Negaduck in the Negaverse,” Christine said, pointing to Gosalyn as she looked up at Stellar. “She might actually have ideas.” 

Gosalyn never would have thought she could be a snitch in this or any other universe. How depressing to find out she’d been wrong. 

Rolling her eyes, she glanced back at Negaduck. He seemed to be gaining some strength the longer the conversation went on. Not that Gosalyn really needed the backup, especially from a guy locked up in a cell, but she felt better that he was slowly getting back to normal. 

“Please,” Stellar’s boney fingers gestured to her. “Share your thoughts.” 

“Nah.” Gosalyn shook her head. “Thanks, though. I appreciate you thinking of me.” 

“I would cooperate, my dear. I’m not as nice as I look,” Stellar warned. 

Gosalyn shook her head. “I don’t know what mirror you use in the morning but I’d try to get a refund.” 

Stellar looked to Negaduck, a sarcastic frown on his beak. “She’s a winner.” 

“And you’re a loser,” Gosalyn said nonchalantly, shrugging. 

In an instant, Stellar threw her against the wall, one hand wrapping around her throat, his beak inches from her own. Negaduck and Christine both protested. The former came to life, bounding off his cot and yelling something as he rattled the bars of his prison. Christine called out for Stellar to calm down. Gosalyn said nothing, just watched Stellar calmly, his icy boney fingers clamped around her neck. His face so close she could see all the lines that proved the decades he’d survived. 

“Say that again,” he threatened, his voice low as slate eyes locked onto emerald.

A moment of deathly silence passed, no one daring to move. 

Gosalyn opened her beak, but nothing came out as Stellar tightened his grip on her throat, cutting off her supply of air. She choked, fingers grabbing ahold of his wrist, attempting to tug his limb away. Stellar just sneered at her, his other hand coming up to join the one at her throat, increasing the pressure. 

Negaduck swore at Stellar loudly and profusely, pressing himself to the bars and reaching out as far as he could, fingers flexed, attempting in vain to pull his father off. Christine approached, grabbing Stellar’s shoulder and trying to tug him back, but he only shrugged her off, his gaze still fixed on Gosalyn’s. 

Her eyes watered and her lungs burned. She desperately tried to draw in breath ended up coughing instead. Swinging her legs out, she kicked at his shins, stomped on his feet, her arms pushing him away, prying at his fingers, but nothing worked. He only increased the pressure on her throat, eyes trained on her and his teeth clenched in a snarl. 

Finally, as Gosalyn’s vision started to grow fuzzy on the edges, an added voice calling out, “Stellar! Let her go!” seemed to have an effect on the towering agent. 

He blinked. 

Slowly. 

Then rolled his eyes. 

Leaning forward, he whispered, “You’re lucky daddy was here to save you,” into Gosalyn’s ear before releasing her and walking smoothly away. 

Gosalyn dropped to her knees, her hand coming up to massage her sore throat as she gasped and coughed, regaining her breath. Gentle hands rested on her shoulders, cupped her face, tilted her chin up. Her eyes found her father’s. Wide, riddled with worry. And outlined in rage. 

Fingers pushing her bangs from her eyes, Darkwing gently asked, “You all right?” 

“Swell,” Gosalyn said, eyeing Stellar as she stood, Darkwing’s hands wrapping around her shoulders to help her up. She glanced at Negaduck, saw the fury, the concern, the overwhelming helplessness that lined his face. Squaring her shoulders, she sent him a slight nod. He breathed an almost imperceptible sigh of relief that only Gosalyn saw because she knew to look for it. Then anger ignited into an inferno in his gaze as he gripped the bars of his cell so hard his knuckles turned white, his eyes trained on his father. 

“You care to explain what you were doing?” Darkwing demanded, his tone as hard as Gosalyn had ever heard it. 

Stellar turned to look at the small group, the malice no longer tucked away under gentility. He’d shown his colors, he didn’t need to keep up the pretense. Smirking, he shrugged. “I gave her fair warning.” 

“Fair—? J. Gander will be hearing about this,” Darkwing said, gripping Gosalyn close and moving to leave. 

“Please extend my warmest wishes to the Director,” Stellar said. “And let him know he can find my letter of resignation on my desk.” 

Darkwing released Gosalyn as he turned to look at the older duck. “You already quit?” 

Stellar smiled. “This morning. I don’t need S.H.U.S.H. now that I have him.” He pointed a boney finger at Negaduck who snarled in response. Stellar’s attack on Gosalyn had done something good. It seemed to have awoken the old Negaduck, the anger she was used to seeing back with a vengeance. 

“Please,” Gosalyn scoffed. “You won’t get anything out of him that he doesn’t want you to know.” 

Stellar rounded on Gosalyn, his eyes flashing dangerously. But Darkwing stood resolutely between them, his fingers already curled around a gas gun he’d pulled from his cape. 

Stellar observed Darkwing for a moment before turning his cool gaze to Gosalyn. “That may be the case, sweetheart, if it were anyone else. But I have my own methods.” 

Gosalyn painted a look of surprise on her face. “Oh, did I not introduce myself? That’s so awkward! Hi, I’m Gosalyn.” She held out a hand over her father’s shoulder for Stellar to shake. “I’ll be annoying you for, you know, ever.” 

“Don’t play games, Gosalyn,” Darkwing warned, his fingers twitching on his gas gun as he continued to watch Stellar. 

“Guess I’ll put away _Sorry!_ then,” she said, tucking her hands into her pockets. Darkwing sighed, resigned to Gosalyn’s sarcasm, but a triumphant smirk flashed across Negaduck’s beak. 

Stellar sneered down at her. “You clearly haven’t been in this business long enough to have learned that a sense of humor has no place in it.” 

“Actually,” Gosalyn said, screwing her face up in derision, “I think I’ve been in this business long enough to know that a sense of humor is essential.” 

Stellar, another wave of anger flooding his features, took a step towards her again. Darkwing brought up his gas gun in an instant, pointing it at Stellar’s chest.

But Gosalyn was prepared this time. 

She pulled her hands out of her pockets, small rods in her palms. Activating both of them with the press of some well-placed buttons, she had a bow and an arrow pointed at Stellar before he could even complete his step. 

“One step closer, birdbrain, and I’ll put this between your eyes,” she said, aiming her arrow where she’d threatened to hit him.

A smile plastered itself over Stellar’s beak. “I think I underestimated you.” 

“I think you’re right,” Gosalyn agreed, her weapon not wavering. 

Stellar took a moment, his eyes studying Gosalyn before he held up his hands in surrender. “You win this round. But he,” he pointed to Negaduck, “has to stay here. No busting him out of jail or whatever it was you had planned. So, really, we’ll call it a draw.” 

Gosalyn glanced at Negaduck, an apology in her gaze but he shook his head, directing his ire at his father. Returning her eyes to Stellar, she dropped her bow to her side, still keeping the arrow nocked in case he tried any last minute funny business. “The Negaverse will never become anything more than it already is.” 

“You don’t really think I want to _reform_ the Negaverse, do you?” Stellar asked, sounding disappointed. “Gosalyn, don’t lose my respect so very early into our relationship.” 

“But, I thought…” Christine said, flinching when Stellar rounded on her, his piercing gaze slicing through her naïveté. Darkwing leapt in front of Christine, his gas gun still leveled at Stellar’s chest. 

“Please, you stupid girl! You were good for one thing and that was finding that,” he pointed to Negaduck, “pathetic excuse of a duck.”  

“Girls,” Darkwing said, his eyes trained on the taller duck, “we’re leaving. Stellar, threaten either of them again and you’ll answer to me and all of S.H.U.S.H.. Are we clear?” 

Stellar smirked. “Transparently.” 

Darkwing placed a hand on Christine’s back, ushering her out. “Gosalyn,” he called. 

She eyed Stellar still, not wanting to leave Negaduck behind with him. A quick glance at her friend and she saw a nod. He wanted her to go. Of course he did! He’d told her to go from the beginning, trying to get her to leave before Stellar even came into the room. 

Like she _ever_ listened to anyone. 

She was about to stand her ground, face off with Stellar, when her father’s sharp, “Gosalyn!” cut through her thoughts. Rolling her eyes, she shot Stellar one last glare before turning and leaving. 

Once the door was closed, leaving Stellar and Negaduck alone in the room, Darkwing turned to the guard. “Stellar is no longer an agent of S.H.U.S.H.. No one goes in or out of this room until J. Gander Hooter himself comes down here. Capiche?” 

The officer saluted, calling on his radio for backup. Darkwing gently pushed Christine up the stairs and called for Gosalyn again. 

Having been separated from Negaduck and now not needing to stay, Gosalyn followed, handing her visitors pass back to Jim at the front desk. He fumed at her, yanking the pass back with a snarl. She just blew him a kiss as she exited. 

“Launchpad is on his way,” Darkwing said when they had all convened out on the sidewalk in front of the police station, his eyes sweeping the skies. “We’re going back to Darkwing Tower.” 

The Thunderquack touched down in the parking lot a few moments later, Launchpad leaning out to help Christine inside before he did the same for Darkwing and for Gosalyn. They took off once everyone was secured in the plane, heading toward Darkwing Tower. Darkwing immediately jumped on the phone with J. Gander and informed him of what had happened with Stellar. 

Once he hung up, Gosalyn leaned forward. “Dad, I have to—” 

Darkwing turned and fixed her with a glare. “You won’t _do_ anything! You are returning to Darkwing Tower where I am going to ground you until you’re fifty.” 

Ah. There was his anger. It had only been hidden under all that disappointment. 

Yippee.  

Well, she wished him luck if he thought he could ground her. 

She was in her twenties; she was her own boss now. 

 

 


	9. Live Out Loud

Agent Stellar Mallard was the duck she tried to live up to. The example she patterned her life after. The one beacon of hope that shed light on her dark life and gave her a reason to carry on.

Or, he  _had_  been.

Because it would be irresponsible to keep idolizing Stellar after he'd shown his true colors.

Now, Christine felt as if she were wandering without a destination. Waffling between feeling completely hopeless to trying to figure out the next step. And every solution was tinged with betrayal and disappointment.

She should have seen this coming. Should have known that the man who had fathered Negaduck wouldn't be normal. And that anyone who scared Negaduck was probably someone she should avoid.

She'd seen that fear every time she and Stellar had walked into Negaduck's cell. At first, Negaduck tried to hide his terror. But it became more and more apparent in his eyes as time went on and Stellar moved to more aggressive tactics to get Negaduck to talk.

Christie had never actually been present for the "talks" Stellar had with Negaduck. The ones where Stellar tried to "persuade" Negaduck to give up his secrets. But she'd been nearby. And she'd only heard one of them screaming.

Shaking her head to try and erase the memories, Christine climbed out of the Thunderquack. When Launchpad held out a hand to her, she hesitated for only a second before allowing him to help her down.

 _This_  Launchpad smiled at her. A lot. He had such an innocently blithe expression on his face. Christine was willing to bet that he wasn't physically capable of being mean, rude, or even gruff.

"Thanks," she said softly, smiling up at him.

"Don't mention it," he said, waving away her gratitude.

"You are overreacting!" Gosalyn said, her tone exasperated as she climbed a spiral staircase up to the second level of Darkwing Tower.

"Oh, is it overreacting to… Get back here, young lady!" Darkwing was on her heels, following and continuing his lecture about betrayal and secrets and distrust that he'd started on their flight back. Christine had sat in the back seat, behind Launchpad, her hands folded in her lap as Darkwing and Gosalyn got into it.

They really could fight. Gosalyn was so sure she'd done the right thing and stuck to her guns, defending herself and reminding her father that she wasn't a child anymore. Darkwing didn't seem to care about any of that, and kept reminding her that she'd gone behind his back and what-was-she-thinking-she-could-have-been-hurt. To which Gosalyn scoffed and mentioned Negaduck would never hurt her and then Darkwing had  _really_  gone off the deep end.

Christine would never have dreamed of talking to Negaduck like that. But Negaduck would never have been able to summon up enough feelings for Christine to actually  _care_  about what she did.

It was almost as if…

"They're probably gonna be at one another's throats for awhile," Launchpad said, his tone soft as he smiled at Christine again. "Wanna eat?"

Again, she only hesitated for a second — just long enough to get the NegaLaunchpad image out of her head — before she said, "Yeah." Was she agreeing because she didn't want to upset Launchpad? Or because she really was hungry? "Sure, I could eat." Probably both.

He grinned and led her up a ladder to a kitchen. Which wasn't the oddest thing in Darkwing's Tower, but it still begged the question: why keep a kitchen in the middle of a hideout, elevated above everything else? And why was a ladder the only way to get up? Why not a normal staircase? Or an elevator? Or… anything else? But the cupboards were fully stocked even if the kitchen was in a very weird place, and Launchpad began grabbing lunch meats and jams and peanut butter, assembling a heaping plate of different sandwiches.

"You aren't allergic to anything, are ya?" he asked, slathering half of the jar of peanut butter onto a slice of bread.

"Not that I know of," Christine said, sitting at the table and folding her hands in her lap.

"That's good! Because I, uh, sorta mixed some of the ingredients together. But, hey! I've never tried peanut butter and ham before. It could be the next big thing!"

Christine smiled as she glanced around Darkwing's hideout.

Did Negaduck have a tower like this? Where he parked his vehicles, kept all his weapons, even had a kitchen and a library and a computer monitor so big it took up half a wall? If it did exist, she'd never been there. But Negaduck never thought to take her anywhere with him.

And there she went, feeling sorry for herself again.

No, Negaduck hadn't loved her.

Still didn't.

Probably never would.

Definitely not now that she'd given Stellar his address.

Negaduck's dark expression the moment he'd realized she'd been the one to give up his secret was one that followed her into her dreams at night.

So would the way his whole body seemed to relax when Gosalyn was in the room. Christine didn't miss the way Negaduck's eyes were always trained on the other girl. How his whole face somehow softened as he watched her, the tension in his shoulders gone, his hands loose.

Really, it would make  _a lot_  of sense…

"Here we go!" Launchpad said, presenting his overflowing platter of sandwiches. He set it down in the middle of the table before going to the fridge.

"Juice, milk, water…?" he glanced back at her and she shrugged.

"Water, I suppose."

"Can't go wrong there!" Launchpad said, smiling again as he grabbed a carton of milk and four glasses. He filled Christine's at the sink, bringing everything over to the table and sitting opposite her.

"Dig in," he said, pouring himself milk.

Christine was going to ask if there were plates for her to put her food on, but Launchpad grabbed a sandwich and started eating with abandon, no plate or silverware or napkins or anything properly set. So, she mirrored him, taking ahold of a sandwich and eating it over the table and spilling crumbs everywhere.

Gosalyn probably would have asked for a plate. No, she would have gotten it herself. Or grabbed a sandwich and walked off, eating as she went. But whatever she decided to do, she'd do it with confidence. She wouldn't have studied the plate of sandwiches as Christine had done, wondering which one was the best to eat. Launchpad had seemed excited to try these new combinations, and so Christine had grabbed the most ordinary looking one of the bunch, leaving the more exciting sandwiches for Launchpad.

She wished she wasn't so hesitant. She'd always wished that, but now, she'd come across her St. Canard counterpart. Christine had finally seen how she behaved in another universe, and, oh, how she wished…

"Ya like it?" Launchpad asked, licking his fingers clean and grabbing another sandwich.

"Yes, thank you," Christine said, a hand coming up to cover her beak and hide the food that was in her mouth.

Christine hadn't even finished her first helping and Launchpad was already reaching for seconds. Even Launchpad moved with his own confidence. She wished she was like him. Had the strength to do what she wanted and not what she thought would anger people the least.

That probably had something to do with her upbringing. That she had always been so desperate to not anger Negaduck, to not be the reason he exploded, that she waited to make a decision until she was absolutely sure it was the right one to make.

But Negaduck had still gotten angry with her. She had tried so hard and it hadn't ever been enough.

Then Gosalyn came in with her headstrong impulsive nature, probably arguing with him like she did with Darkwing.

And Negaduck liked  _her_.

A lot.

Even probably loved her, though he would never admit such a thing.

Maybe Gosalyn's stronger personality was better suited to Negaduck. Maybe Christine's more hesitant nature was better suited to Darkwing. Maybe…

" _I'm_  gonna bust him outta jail," Gosalyn said, walking into the kitchen in a superhero costume. A green tunic layered on top of brown pants and a belt with a golden "Q" cinching her waist. Similar to her father, Gosalyn wore a cape, the same green as her tunic with an inner lavender lining.

Gosalyn grabbed a sandwich, nodded her thanks to Launchpad and took a bite, pouring two glasses of milk before she slid back down the ladder, one of the glasses still in hand, the sandwich stuffed in her beak. The other glass of milk she left on the kitchen table.

"You are  _not_ —" Christine heard Darkwing say, his voice exhausted.

"I wasn't asking!" Gosalyn said right back. Christine's eyes dropped to her half-eaten sandwich. She hated arguing. Why couldn't Gosalyn just do what Darkwing asked? Why did she have to be so abrasive?

No wonder Negaduck liked her so much. He was the same. Always trying to get the last word. Never knew when to stop arguing. Fought just for fighting's sake.

Launchpad must have seen something in Christine's expression because he said, "It's gonna be all right. They argue like this a lot, but they don't mean any of it."

"Then why  _do_  they argue?" Christine asked, glancing up at Launchpad.

"I think it's because they're so alike. DW sees a lot of himself in Gos and he just wants her to be safe. But she doesn't want to be held back, so they argue." Launchpad took a swig of his milk before flashing another smile at Christine. He smiled  _so much_.

"You'd think they don't like each other at all," she mentioned, wishing she had something to set her sandwich down on. Her fingers were digging into the bread and it was getting mushy, the mayonnaise starting to seep through.

"Nah, it's because they love each other," Launchpad said, standing suddenly and coming back to the table with a wad of napkins which he handed to Christine. She took them with a smile of her own and placed her sandwich on one while she wiped her fingers clean with another.

"DW and Gos are headstrong and stubborn and they both want their way. They just don't always see eye to eye. Not at first. Eventually, they will." Launchpad reached for his third — or was it his fourth? — sandwich, digging in with as much enthusiasm as he did with the first.

"It's just…" Christine sighed. "Wouldn't it be better if Gosalyn did what Darkwing asked? He's her father, shouldn't she listen to him?"

Launchpad chewed his bite thoroughly, his face screwed up in concentration. Swallowing he said, "Maybe it would be easier, but DW never likes things to be easy. Gos is a challenge. He likes that about her. He likes everything about her, even when she disobeys him."

Christine nodded.

She understood.

She  _did_.

But wouldn't it make more sense if  _she_  was Darkwing's…?

"Do you have anything else to add to this lecture?" she heard Gosalyn's voice echo around the tower. It was a softer, more conversational tone which caught Christine's attention.

Christine stood and walked to the edge of the kitchen as Launchpad grabbed another sandwich. She caught sight of Darkwing and Gosalyn immediately, standing near the Ratcatcher, one dressed in green and the other in purple.

"Just…" Darkwing sighed. "Be careful. And I love you."

 _Yes_ , but…

"Sentimentalist," Gosalyn groused, a small smile on her beak.

See? Why couldn't…?

Darkwing grabbed her in a hug, Gosalyn tucking herself into her father's chest for a moment before she stepped back and nodded at him. Then she ran off, disappearing down some hatch in the Tower's floor.

Darkwing watched where she'd exited for a moment before turning and heading towards the kitchen. Christine resumed her seat opposite Launchpad, her half-eaten sandwich forgotten. Folding her hands in her lap, she watched as Darkwing climbed the kitchen ladder.

"Get the Thunderquack ready, LP. We have a city to save."

"Sure thing, DW!" Launchpad said, taking one more sandwich for the road before smiling at Christine  _again_  and climbing down the ladder.

"Is something wrong?" Christine asked, watching as Darkwing carefully sorted through what was left of the sandwiches before making his choice.

"Did Stellar tell you about his plan with the Negaverse? Or with this universe? Or with… anything at all?" Darkwing asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

Christine shook her head. "He didn't share much of anything, really."

Darkwing swallowed. "I didn't think so. Still, worth a shot. Whatever his endgame is doesn't matter right now, but I did wonder…" He shook his head, "Never mind. I guess he left the portal between the Negaverse and this universe open because the Negaverse villains are here."

"Right now?" Christine asked, jumping up from the table, wondering how she could have missed something like that.

"Looks like it," Darkwing said around another bite. "At least the Fearsome Four from what I saw."

"Are they outside?"

Darkwing nodded. "Megavolt's done something to the power plant, Bushroot's vine's are growing on the bridge, and Quackerjack's toy yacht is puttering through the Bay."

"And Gosalyn went to break Negaduck out of jail?" Christine asked, brow furrowing. "Shouldn't she be helping you?"

"She  _wants_  to bust him out of jail," Darkwing corrected, finishing off his sandwich. "But she went to see if she could reason with the Fearsome Four first. Says she might be able to scare them back to the Negaverse since she's been working with Negaduck lately."

"Do you think she can?"

Darkwing sighed. "I hope so. If not, we'll be ready to send them back."

He was about to descend the ladder when he noticed the glass of milk Gosalyn had left behind. A tender smile crossed his beak as he walked back and picked it up. "I  _always_  forget the milk," he said, shaking his head before drinking it. Setting the now empty glass on the table, he climbed back down the ladder.

Christine ran to the edge of the kitchen, calling, "What do you want me to do?"

"Stay here," Darkwing said, jumping into the Thunderquack beside Launchpad. "I'll come get you once it's safe."

She nodded, watching as they took off into the St. Canard skyline.

At least Darkwing wouldn't have to worry about Christine breaking rules or doing what she wanted.  _Gosalyn_  might not have stayed put, but  _Christine_  definitely would.

And, really…

Wouldn't it make sense if she and Gosalyn had been brought up in the wrong universe? Because she thought it made  _a lot_  of sense.

Christine listened to Darkwing. Followed all his wishes and never questioned him. Gosalyn challenged Negaduck. Broke his rules and did what she wanted.

Christine was order. Gosalyn was chaos.

And which of those belonged in the Negaverse? 


	10. No One Is Alone

As soon as the Thunderquack landed in Darkwing Tower, Gosalyn bounded out, her travel bow and arrow clutched in her hands. She tossed them aside as soon as she cleared the plane; like those were going to be of any help getting Negaduck out of jail. They were designed for small storage and a one-time use. An emergency set that she'd prototyped with Gyro Gearloose, Scrooge McDuck's brainy inventor.

That was one good thing that had come out of their visit to Duckburg a few years ago: Gosalyn's weapons and suit development with Gyro. She'd have to tell him how the travel bow and arrow had worked. Maybe she could even get a few more sets. It would be helpful to know how it fired instead of just using it as a threat…

"Gosalyn Mallard, I forbid you from leaving Darkwing Tower for the night!" her father said, leaping out of the Thunderquack and following on her heels.

Gosalyn rolled her eyes as she climbed the spiral staircase. "You're overreacting!"

"Oh, is it overreacting to…" Darkwing growled low in this throat, frustrated that she was avoiding him. As she arrived on the second level, she heard her father's feet pounding up the stairs behind her. "Get back here, young lady!"

"'Young lady'. I didn't realize this was so serious," Gosalyn said, walking over to her corner of the Tower.

Ever since she has started fighting crime regularly with her father, he'd sectioned the second level off into three "bedrooms" for himself, Gosalyn, and Launchpad. Each bedroom consisted of a bed, a rack for their clothes, and whatever else they thought was necessary. Gosalyn's corner was the messiest because of course it was. She had squirreled away broken and battered furniture of varying types from the dumpsters of St. Canard, taping targets onto them to practice with on the slower days. Launchpad had a massive toolbox that was large enough to be a wardrobe, filled with all his hardware and necessary power tools to work on the Ratcatcher and Thunderquack. Darkwing stuck with a small bookshelf and his more traditional bedside table, where he kept his boy scout manual and a lamp.

He was big on research. And preferred using books and hard materials to the internet.

Their rooms were separated by folding screens, which they only threw up when they were changing their clothes. They didn't use them otherwise. Not even when they slept; they each crashed on their beds without much thought for privacy. Sometimes — okay most times — it was comforting to have a clear view of the others. Especially after a particularly dangerous case. But they never said that.

Gosalyn reached her room and grabbed her folding screen, spreading it out and reaching for her Quiverwing costume.

"Don't you use that tone with me," Darkwing called. He hovered on the other side of the screen, a misshapen shadow. "Of course this is serious…"

Gosalyn sighed, knowing she was asking for a fight.

But she didn't care.

She was frustrated and, okay okay, she was taking it out on her father. Mostly because he was there. But also because he was the one who had dragged her away from the jail cells at the police station. He had made the decision to leave Negaduck alone with Stellar.

Not that Gosalyn could have done much to help Negaduck with Stellar there. The older duck would have foiled all her better escape plans. He was a piece of work. If she never saw the older "agent" again, it would be too soon.

Gosalyn hadn't given much thought to her father's past, but the few times it had come up, like when they went to his his school reunion or when she saw him as a young boy not able to stand up to bullies, she had a pretty decent idea of how bleak his childhood had been. Seeing Darkwing's father — or the Negaverse version of him — had only painted an even more depressing portrait of what Darkwing and Negaduck's childhoods had been like.

Negaduck's just seemed much more grim.

Or so she hoped.

Because if someone had treated Darkwing that way, regardless if it was his father or mother or aunt or uncle or third cousin four times removed, she would not be responsible for her actions.

Gosalyn breathed deeply, not even wanting to think about it. Negaduck was bad enough. If her father really had been treated similarly…

"… And another thing," Darkwing continued, to which Gosalyn rolled her eyes as she fastened her belt. She hadn't been listening. Not that it mattered; she could guess what his lecture had consisted of. Grounding, it's too dangerous, you never listen to me, blah, blah, blah.

Opening her screen, Darkwing's train of thought was stopped when he saw her in her full regalia.

"You are not leaving!" he said, his brow drawn low. "Didn't you hear me ground you?"

"Like that's ever worked before," Gosalyn said, tightening her ponytail and making her way back to the staircase. She needed to grab her real quiver and bow from their weapons arsenal…

Darkwing stopped her progress, and her thoughts, by grabbing ahold of her arm. She spun to look at him.

"You're not going anywhere with Stellar still out there."

"J. Gander is probably already on his way to the jail now. Don't you have faith in S.H.U.S.H.?" Gosalyn didn't. Not at all. They hadn't done much on the crime fighting front except create the weapons that villains used against them. But, they paid Darkwing and kept him well-stocked on the latest hero tech. So. A necessary evil.

"Stellar's clever. I'm sure he's thought of some way to escape. And until he and Negaduck are locked away for good, I don't want you wandering around on your own…"

"I don't wander," Gosalyn interrupted, tugging her arm free from her father's grip. "Since when have you worried about me going out to fight crime with Negaduck roaming the streets?"

"Every day!"

Well, that was probably true. Her father was the type that was concerned about everything.

Seeing something in his eyes, something he wasn't voicing, Gosalyn swallowed her snarky comment. Fear and anger tightening her chest, she inhaled deeply before asking her next question.

"Was your dad like Stellar?"

"Like… what?" Darkwing seemed genuinely taken aback by the question, blinking rapidly.

"Your dad," Gosalyn said, modulating her tone to a gentle one. "Was he like the Negaverse Stellar we met?"

Darkwing studied Gosalyn in silence. "I mean," he said after a moment, shrugging. Gosalyn held her breath.

"Not as bad," Darkwing continued. "My dad would mostly drink until he passed out. He took it hard after Mom…" Eyes trailing off to some far-off point on the wall, Darkwing cleared his throat before saying, "I think Negaduck had it worse. His father seemed to have taken out everything on his son instead of burying it all away under alcohol."

"Oh, Dad," Gosalyn said, moving forward to take his hand. Darkwing's fingers curled around hers reflexively, but his eyes snapped back to her, round with surprise. As if he had forgotten that she was standing there.

"I'm sorry," she said, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

He nodded, his eyes trailing back over her shoulder.

"I… I wish you didn't have to go through that and that your childhood was as happy as mine was. But mostly I wish you'd look at me instead of whatever it is over my shoulder." Gosalyn turned to look behind her, searching for what her father had been looking at.

Flashes of light flickered on the walls. Similar to lightening, but far too frequent. And without any clouds in the sky. Or thunder to follow.

Darkwing squeezed Gosalyn's hand and she glanced back at him. He smiled at her briefly, silently thanking her for her wishes, but then the two of them were off and running towards a window, both peering down into St. Canard, eager to find what was causing the lights to flash.

The power plant. It was surging, it's lights flickering between blinding and dim.

"Megavolt," Darkwing breathed.

"And he brought some friends," Gosalyn said, pointing down to Audubon Bay where a yacht was sailing towards the shore. Liquidator's face could be made out in the waves of the Bay, pushing the boat along, Quackerjack and Bushroot at the helm. There were a few other villains on the deck, but no one Gosalyn could recognize from this distance.

This whole thing struck her as odd. There wasn't anything scheduled for tonight.

They could have come to break Negaduck free…

No.

If Gosalyn hadn't heard of his capture, there was no way his underlings had. Negaduck had disappeared for weeks at a time before; his cronies had all learned to just wait for his return.

So, then what…?

"Come to break out their fearless leader?" Darkwing asked. When Gosalyn glanced at him, he was looking at her with such a bitter expression, that Gosalyn snorted in response.

"They can't raid a sandwich shop during business hours. You think they're gonna be able to break into a police station?"

"You know them better than I do," Darkwing said petulantly.

Gosalyn sighed. She knew this was coming. All the silence and brooding had been escalating to a talk like this one. She just wished her father had picked a better time to have this conversation. Not that any time was a good time as far as Gosalyn was concerned, but seriously, any other day was better than right now.

"I'll go down and find out why they're here before I…"

"You'll go find out what they are doing?" Darkwing asked, one eyebrow hitching high above the other.

"Yes," Gosalyn breathed, irritated. "I've been spending time around them and they've seen me with Negaduck lately. I might be able to get them back to the Negaverse without a fight."

"You've been… They've seen you…" Darkwing shook his head. "My brain might explode with how much of what you just said is wrong."

"Then don't think about it," Gosalyn said, waving it away. "Just promise me you'll stay here. You swooping in with 'I am the Terror blah-blah-blah' would not help in getting them to leave peacefully."

"Blah-blah-blah?" Darkwing asked, both his eyebrows shooting up and disappearing under his fedora.

"I can't listen to all your intros," Gosalyn said. "They change every time!"

"That's the point! I tailor each of them to the situation!"

"Well, this situation doesn't need the Terror that Flaps in the Night, it needs Quiverwing to talk sense into them. Please promise me—"

"If you expect me to sit idly by—"

"Please, Dad, just trust me."

Darkwing shook his head. "Trust you. When you've been going behind my back and working with my archiest of arch nemeses?"

Gosalyn ran a hand over her face in exasperation. Okay, she totally deserved that. But it was still so not the time. "I might not have a great track record, but at least trust that I know what I'm doing. That I've known what I have been doing from the beginning."

Darkwing studied Gosalyn for a few moments in silence. She just maintained eye contact.

Please say yes.

Please say yes.

Please say yes.

He sighed heavily before nodding. "All right."

Gosalyn beamed, kissing Darkwing on his cheek on her way downstairs.

"But I'll be watching the whole time," Darkwing said, following her down just as he'd followed her up, "and if anything happens at all, I'm joining the fight whether you want me to or not."

"Right, because the villains and I will have some nice conversation over sandwiches and tea and then they'll leave." Gosalyn glanced back just to send him a raised eyebrow. "Face it, Dad, these guys are gonna try to intimidate me. Just cause things might look a little bad doesn't mean you need to swoop in…"

"It's not negotiable, Gos. Launchpad and I will be following you the whole time or else you don't get to go at all."

Gosalyn just scoffed as she walked over to the kitchen.

"I'm still not convinced that they aren't here to get Negaduck," Darkwing muttered, more to himself than to Gosalyn. "It can't be a coincidence that he's in jail and these four happen to show up…"

Gosalyn rolled her eyes. "Even if they were here for Negaduck, I wouldn't let them go anywhere near the St. Canard police station because I'm gonna bust him outta jail."

She heard her father stumble behind her as she mounted the ladder to the kitchen.

Launchpad and Christine were sitting at the table, the former wolfing down sandwiches and Christine sitting with a half-eaten sandwich, her fingers covered in mayonnaise.

Gosalyn grabbed a sandwich from the pile on the table and nodded her thanks to Launchpad, who grinned up at her around a bit of roast beef. Leave it to that man to make lunch; he was always led by his stomach.

Taking a bite of her sandwich, she poured milk into both of the empty glasses sitting on the table. When he'd calmed down, Darkwing would want some food before he went out to fight their visitors. And he always forgot the milk. Having it out in plain sight would actually get him to drink it.

"You are not—" Darkwing started to say, his voice fatigued as it traveled up to the kitchen.

"I wasn't asking!" Gosalyn called. Taking her glass in one hand and stuffing her sandwich in her beak with the other, she climbed back down the ladder one-handed. Reaching the ground, she grabbed ahold of her sandwich, took another bite and talked around her food. "I was letting you know as a courtesy. But I'm not going to leave any friend of mine with Stellar for a second longer than I have to."

"You sure he's just a friend?" Darkwing asked.

"First of all, ew," Gosalyn said, her face scrunching up in horror. "Second of all, you want me to say that he's a father figure? Because he is. Kind of. More like an uncle. A badly tempered uncle." She took another bite of her sandwich and walked to the weapons arsenal, eyes scanning the wall. "But I like him and he likes me. I think. Maybe. I don't really know. I'm still figuring it out. But that doesn't matter; I'm still busting him out. Right after I talk to those losers down there."

"You even sound like him," Darkwing said, shaking his head.

"Chill out," Gosalyn pacified, stuffing the rest of her sandwich in her beak before downing her milk. "He and I have spent time together; I'm gonna pick up some of his phrases." Setting the now empty glass down on a nearby table, she expertly chose her arrows, filling her quiver to capacity. Slinging it over her shoulder, she grabbed her bow and turned to her father.

"Do you have anything else to add to this lecture?" Gosalyn asked.

"Just…" Darkwing's eyes roved her face before he sighed. "Be careful. And I love you."

"Sentimentalist." Gosalyn smiled.

Darkwing reached out, pulling her into a hug. Gosalyn rested her head on her father's chest.

"I am sorry, Dad."

Darkwing hummed in response, resting his beak on her hair.

"For your childhood," Gosalyn elaborated. "And for lying to you about Negaduck. I'm just… I'm sorry."

"I know, kiddo. And even if I am disappointed, it's all right."

Gosalyn relaxed into his hold, snuggling into his chest further.

"That doesn't mean we don't get to talk about it all later," he warned.

She sighed as he pressed a small kiss into her hair. Detangling herself from his hold, she nodded at him before running off.

Opening the hatch in the floor usually used for the Ratcatcher, Gosalyn half-ran, half-slid down the Audubon Bay Bridge, hands out or balance as she made her way down. Her eyes followed the yacht, wondering why this little discussion had to take place on the water of all places.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she continued towards the Bay and hoped this wouldn't take long. She had a dangerous criminal to bust out of jail.


	11. A Little Less Conversation

Half-sliding, half-running down the Audubon Bay Bridge, Gosalyn weighed her options.

She could jump onto the yacht as it sailed beneath the Bridge. Pro: she'd surprise the villains and be able to bargain with them face-to-face. Con: she might miss and fall in the water.

No.

Nope.

She wasn't willing to chance falling into the dark depths, the surface slipping away as she sunk lower and lower…

Shaking herself, she ran through other alternatives.

She could wait to see where they docked. Pro: she didn't have to worry about the water and could finalize her plan of attack more fully. Con: she'd have to wait  _so much longer_  to find out where they intended to go and then she'd have to play catch up once she realized where they'd be.

And she wasn't sure if she had enough energy for that.

All that  _running_.

Just.

No.

There was always the use-a-megaphone-and-talk-to-them-from-afar method. Pro: she didn't have to worry about the water and she would still be able to talk with them without running after them. Con: the whole city would know about their negotiations and there was no telling who else would get involved. And it's super hard to hear what others are saying back to you in response when you're the only one with a megaphone.

It was these sorts of missions that made Gosalyn want her own airplane and a pilot. Or her own motorcycle. Or even her own  _car_. She wasn't picky. But she'd never gone on missions by herself before. She'd always had Launchpad and her father alongside her. She'd never needed her own vehicles because she just used Darkwing's.

Except this time.

When she'd decided to go in by herself.

So, she had no one else to blame, really.

Which was the worst part of it all.

Focus.

Of her options, the first seemed the best. Even if it increased her chances of falling into the swirling darkness of the Bay.

On relatively sunny days like today, the waters were still dark and murky and you couldn't see to the bottom. Gosalyn knew how deep it was. How far down you could sink, gasping for the air that was long out of reach as you choked on the muddy water swirling down your throat and into your lungs as you coughed then coughed again…

Gosalyn heaved as she slowed to a halt on the bridge. Her hands came up to rest on her knees and she eyed the gently lapping water beneath her.

She was  _fine_.

She  _wasn't_  underneath the waves.

She was above them. In the air. Breathing. Not coughing or choking or gasping…

But she  _did_  need to move. The yacht was approaching the bridge and she'd miss her window of opportunity to jump onto it soon.

Taking in another gulp of the readily-available oxygen, Gosalyn zeroed in on the section of bridge that would be the best place to jump from. Jogging, she kept an eye on the yacht as she dodged traffic, ignoring the screeching tires, honks, and shouts while she crossed the busy thoroughfare.

With how many times she'd nearly been hit by a car, it was a wonder why she didn't have a fear of getting pulverized by a careening hunk of metal on rubber tires.

But, no. It was water. Pools of water. Not, like,  _all_  water.

_Focus_.

Clearing the median, she jumped onto the hood of a Sudan before leaping onto the roof of a minivan. This side of the street was stopped dead, all the commuters going home after a long day at the office. She got a few more shouts and honks as she used the cars to cross the street like she was in a game of Frogger.

Seeing a semi truck near the edge of the bridge, Gosalyn came at it from the front, flashing the driver a grin as she used first his hood, then the roof of the cab to climb on top of the rectangular cargo in the back. Peering down into the Bay, the wind whipping her cape around behind her in what she hoped was a heroic way instead of a haphazard tangled way, Gosalyn caught sight of the boat's stern inching its way under the bridge.

Inhaling shakily, she removed her bow and quickly strung it, grabbing for her grappling hook arrow.

Just in case.

Because, otherwise, she'd never jump. Those waves lapping around the yacht as it cut through the water were enough to make her knees weak.

Another breath to steady her nerves, giving the boat more time to sail clear of the bridge, and Gosalyn jumped, twisting in the air to fire her arrow. The metal clanged onto the bridge's railing and she grabbed ahold of the rope, swinging down straight onto the deck.

Landing hard, Gosalyn rolled forward onto one knee. She nocked another arrow and pointed it at Quackerjack, who was currently steering the boat.

"And just where do you think you're going?" she asked, relishing in the surprise and shock splashing onto the villain's faces around her.

"Did you jump from the  _bridge_?"

"How did you already know we were here?"

"Nah, there's a grappling hook and a rope hanging from the railing. That's how she got down."

"Still. She knew we were here."

"She always knows where we are."

"Yeah, in the  _Negaverse_. It's just creepy that she knew we were here  _now_."

"You know what's annoying?" Gosalyn asked as the Fearsome Three — Megavolt must still playing with the power plant — and the few other villains along for the ride argued amongst themselves. She fired her arrow, aiming just over Quackerjack's shoulder. It landed in the wood behind the toymaker, the high-pitched whistle sounding off as it made contact. All the villains covered their ears, faces pinching into pained expressions.

"When everyone talks like you aren't there," Gosalyn finished, her voice carrying over the whistle. Now," she said as the whistle died down and she nocked another arrow, "are you going to tell me what you're doing here or are we going to have to do this the hard way?"

Quackerjack's eyes narrowed as he peered down at her from his perch, fingers twitching on the wheel.

"Just tell her, Quacky babe," Steelbeak said, massaging his ears. "My tinnitus can't take another one of dem whistle arrows. Did I tell you dat?" he said, turning and glaring at Gosalyn. "I got tinnitus from dat little explosion in the Negaverse when you and Negaduck cornered me."

"I didn't tell you to stand so close to your dynamite," Gosalyn said, shrugging. "I also didn't tell you to blow it up."

"I mean," Bushroot said, looking at Steelbeak, "she has a point."

"Oh, no!" Steelbeak said, throwing his hands in the air in his exasperation. "I am not gonna stand here and take dis abuse from all youse guys! Once we're off dis tiny little boat, I'm outta here."

" _Tiny little boat_?" Quackerjack steamed, his fiery gaze now locked onto Steelbeak. "This, my disgraced F.O.W.L. agent, is a state of the art yacht brought to you by my latest toy collection. It shrinks down to toy size for convenience and play time, but then becomes a full-sized yacht for those lazy weekends on the water or for a quick getaway."

"Order now for a limited time!" Liquidator's watery voice echoed around them. Clearly the watery villain was still in the Bay, helping to push the "toy" yacht along.

"And this one is called  _Seas the Day_!" Bushroot added enthusiastically.

"I miss da perks of being a F.O.W.L. agent," Steelbeak said, running a hand along the railing and sneering at the grime he found collected on his finger tips. "Mostly da fancy vehicles and hotels they'd set us up with."

" _Is that dirt_?" asked Ammonia Pine, all but leaping towards the railing and scrubbing it down with her literal buckets of cleaning supplies she'd brought with her.

"I was a respected agent," Steelbeak lamented, stepping aside to allow Ammonia to go on her cleaning spree. "Not some schmuck floatin' along in a little toy yacht on a mission we ain't even sure is real…"

"Call my yacht tiny  _one more time_ ," Quackerjack snarled, his free hand balling into a fist.

"For the love of…" Gosalyn fired another whistle arrow, all of the villains crying out and doubling over as they covered their ears again.

" _Will you quit dat_?!" Steelbeak raged, looming over Gosalyn after the whistle stopped its high-pitched whine.

"You chose the hard way!" Gosalyn said, standing up straight and thrusting her chin up at him.

"Again, she's right," Bushroot said.

"We  _ain't_  startin' this again." Steelbeak massaged his temples.

"I can do this all day," Gosalyn said, nocking another arrow. "I've got nowhere to be."

That was a lie. She'd have to break Negaduck out of jail at some point. Like she'd tell  _them_  that.

"We don't need to tell you anything," Quackerjack said peevishly, sneering down at Gosalyn.

"Yes." Gosalyn pulled back her arrow. "You do." She aimed over his shoulder again. Quackerjack's sneer darkened, the lines between his eyes and around his beak deepening. Gosalyn's fingers were about to release her third whistle arrow when Steelbeak stepped between them.

"We was summoned here," he said, his hands pushing Gosalyn's weapons down.

"Who summoned you?" she asked. She stepped back as Ammonia crawled in front of her, brush out, madly scrubbing the deck.

"It's being broadcast on all the TV channels in da Negaverse. Telling us dat the portal to St. Canard is open and the city is ready for the taking OW!" Steelbeak's fingers stroked the back of his head and leered up at Quackerjack who'd thrown a small tin soldier at him.

"Don't tell her  _everything_!" Quackerjack cried.

"Tinnitus," Steelbeak said, pointing to his ear. "I ain't going through another one of dem whistle arrows again if I can help it. Not like you're doin' much good up dere yourself, pretendin' ta steer da yacht dat Liquidator is really steerin' from da water."

" _Excuse me_?" Quackerjack said.

Gosalyn sighed and brought up her bow and arrow again, ready to fire but Steelbeak pushed it back down.

"We came ta see if what was said was true."

"You forgot me in this plan," Gosalyn said, a hand going to her hip. "And Darkwing Duck. I'm sure he's on his way here to stop you."

He wasn't. Not like  _they_  needed to know that. In fact, there was a whole list of things these villains didn't need to know.

"Besides, won't Negaduck be upset that you all abandoned your assignments for this mysterious message?" Gosalyn asked raising an eyebrow.

"Negaduck?" boomed a new voice, the yacht suddenly swaying back and forth dangerously as something massive rose out of the water.

Gosalyn dropped her weapons immediately, reaching for the rail and hanging on for dear life. Water sloshed over the railings of the yacht, puddles splashing onto the deck.

This was bad. This was really  _really_  bad.

She'd sink to the bottom of the Bay all over again, this time with a yacht on top of her and drown. Gosalyn could practically taste the foul water. Her breath choked her as she gasped for as much air as she could before she was sent down to the bottom of the murky dark depths where she would never be able to breathe again…

"We haven't seen Negaduck in a week at least," said the booming voice, "Gave up on him, yes we did. And then there was this voice. This wonderful sickening dark voice coming from the television screens."

Speaking of voices, Gosalyn recognized that one. Focusing on its deep tones and playful lilts, she centered herself, trying to ignore the water still sloshing around the steadying yacht.

"So we followed this voice's instructions and now we're here! St. Canard is so much bigger than I remember and I'm so  _hungry_ …"

"Paddywhack!" Quackerjack screeched, trying to sound angry but Gosalyn caught the undertone of panic beneath his voice. "We'd appreciate it if we could get to the dock without getting capsized first!"

Yeah. Super appreciative. No capsizing.  _Please_  no capsizing.

Why hadn't she just run around to the docks and waited for them there? This whole jump-onto-the-yacht plan was  _not_  working out. She still had the rails in a vice-like grip and knew she wouldn't be moving anytime soon.

And then the name Quackerjack called out hit her.

Paddywhack.

The demon trickster duck who had almost spirited her away to whatever land he'd come from during their first meeting. During their second meeting, he had joined forces with Negduck and then ended up using Megavolt's tron-splitter to blast Negaduck into tiny microscopic pieces.

She'd never been clear on how Negaduck had come back from that, but Gosalyn could use his help right now. Why hadn't she broken him out of jail first? Met the villains at the dock with him at her side?

Why hadn't she just brought her father and Launchpad along? Come up with some plan of attack together and taken the villains down, Paddywhack and all?

And why  _oh why_  had she thought that jumping on a yacht in the middle of Audubon Bay had been  _her best option_?

"You're far from home, little duckling," Paddywhack said, leaning down and looking at Gosalyn with a sickening grin on his face. She only had the strength to look up at him, her fingers having long since gone numb from clutching the railing tightly for so long.

"Oh, yes,  _yes_ ," he said, his voice filled with glee. "That's it. Feed your fears. I'll be needing a little pick-me-up before I begin my feast on St. Canard."

_Really_  wishing she hadn't picked the jumping-onto-the-yacht-with-no-backup plan.

 

**_A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger! I promise I'll make up for this short chapter later. Thanks for reading; I hope you're liking it!_ **


	12. Gifts And Curses

Noise erupted from the other side of the door that separated the jail cells from the rest of the police station: raised voices calling to each other, radios buzzing and crackling, feet pounding as every available officer sprinted out of the station.

This old jail cell getup would have been handy back in the days of the Old West, when the Sheriff was a few feet from his inmates, giving the criminals a full view of the goings and comings of the station. But nowadays the cells were just useless. Burrowed away down in the moldy basement behind a locked door with a security guard standing on the other side.

How was the mastermind behind all of crime in St. Canard supposed to keep tabs on what was going on if he was locked up and kept away from all the action?

Itching to know what had caused the station to crescendo into such an uproar, Negaduck paced the cell, hands twisted into tight fists behind his back as his eyes darted up to the door every now and then as if his gaze alone would make someone appear and tell him everything that was going on.

No one would think of  _him_. Far down in the basement alone.

Stellar had managed to get away from the S.H.U.S.H. agents by bribing the guard outside the jail cells and then knocking the gullible man's skull in once he'd unlocked the door. The S.H.U.S.H. agents had arrived about ten minutes after that, the small bespectacled J. Gander Hooter barking out orders to his agents before leaving the jail cells with a warning to Negaduck to not try anything before he slammed the door shut.

Like Negaduck could go anywhere.

Then the chaos of the police station had erupted, yadda, yadda, yadda,and here he was pacing his cell, wondering if all of this madness was for Stellar or something else.

But the thing was,  _nothing_  was supposed to be going on. Not tonight. Negaduck might have been out of the game for however long he'd been in here, but he knew that the crimes he'd arranged weren't so big as to have the  _entire police station_  scrambling to leave as quickly as they could.

So it  _had_  to be Stellar. One big diversion designed to give him the perfect opportunity to escape. But what could he have done to distract all of S.H.U.S.H.  _and_  the police force? Negaduck hated to admit it, but even  _he_  wasn't that good. Stellar had probably gotten Darkwing Dork involved in this massive distraction, too.

Dipwing was the perfect candidate to fall for this sort of thing. Christine and that asinine pilot would probably be just as gullible as that lavender-clad vigilante.

Gosalyn, though.

Gosalyn would see through this. She'd know. She'd go after…

Ice froze Negaduck's veins as he gasped for breath, all but collapsing onto his knees.

_Gosalyn would go after Stellar_.

Alone.

No.

No, no, no.

She couldn't…

She wouldn't…

But she could. And, oh yes, she  _would_.

Because she didn't like Stellar.

Not that Negaduck could blame her; Stellar was evil incarnate. Which was a painful admission, because Negaduck called  _himself_  that on his better days.

But his father outweighed him on the evil scale.

Where Negaduck was brazen and brash, clobbering his way through anything by whatever means necessary, Stellar simply had to ask and then receive. Because his particular brand of terror was psychological.

The man had a way with words, combined with his demeanor and that smile of his, that hypnotized you. Made you see what only he wanted you to see. Then he'd abandon you as he tore your whole world asunder to the point where you couldn't even remember if your own name was just another one of his lies.

Really, Negaduck envied him. He had for years. But psychological wasn't in Negaduck's nature. He was louder. More brazen. Crass.

You knew when you'd been hit by Negaduck. Couldn't miss it. With Stellar, you never saw it coming. You'd wonder if you'd somehow hit  _him_ , and would come up with the best way to apologize.

And Gosalyn, the one thing Negaduck could finally start admitting — even in the very  _very_  deep recesses of his mind — was the best part of his whole miserable life, was about to go toe-to-toe with the man Freddy Krueger had nightmares about.

If ever there was a time she would need help, it was now.

Fingers flying, Negaduck searched his pockets, his extra pockets, and his super secret pockets. He dove under his prison cot, grabbing his folded cape and dug through the fabric with abandon. With each empty pocket came more disappointment and more anxiety.

This was why he had made it portable. This was why he'd reminded himself to put it in his pockets before he left the house every day. He had no one to blame but himself if it wasn't there.

And… nothing. His pocket-sized bomb was gone. Fallen out? Or still sitting on his bedside table? Stolen by Stellar when he'd "interrogated" Negaduck? When his son had been delirious from pain, or knocked unconscious, had the old man rummaged through Negaduck's uniform, stealing whatever he found?

Because right now — right this very  _second_  — Negaduck needed that bomb.

He had to get out.

To help Gosalyn.

To see what his father was up to.

And he couldn't.

He'd failed even before he'd started.

As usual.

Still hoping it was just buried in the deepest recesses of his pockets, Negaduck turned every one of them inside out, unbuttoning his jacket and pulling at the fabric so he could visually confirm the emptiness his fingers had encountered.

Well, almost emptiness.

He managed to find some compact explosives, a box of matches, two small pistols, a travel sized canister of kerosene, and the Oblivion button he'd rigged up a few years ago. He didn't even know why he still had that.

Once upon a time Negaduck had created said button to send Darkwing to Oblivion, the place Darkwing had unwittingly sent Negaduck to. The caped vigilante had pulled the Universal Plug after his visit to the Negaverse and sent the portal between the two universes, and Negaduck, swirling into a great big vat of nothing.

Negaduck had worked tirelessly for weeks to get back, to rebuild the bridge that Darkwing had carelessly destroyed. And he'd done it. Managed to return himself home and re-build the bridges between the Negaverse and St. Canard. He'd even used the same bakery as the portal doors, knowing Darkwing would never think to look for the Negaverse in the same place twice.

Looking back on it now, Negaduck wasn't sure how he'd done it. At the time, his hatred had fueled his need to return. The thought of giving Darkwing a taste of his own medicine and sending  _him_  to Oblivion had gotten him through many fruitless nights.

Well. Chalk this freaking button up to another one of Negaduck's glorious failures. He'd never found a good time to give it to Darkwing. And he'd never fixed the mechanics of the damn thing. Right now, the person holding the button would get sucked into the wasteland of Oblivion themselves, which defeated the whole purpose. Because getting someone to press a button to send them away forever wouldn't work. But he'd never figured out how to make it similar to a gun where he could point and shoot.

And there was the huge amount of pressure that went with it: once the button was pressed, that person wasn't coming back. He'd made sure of that.

Or, he thought he had.

He'd never tested it.

But he'd designed it to be a one way transport. Which was so  _final._ He'd never been able to adjust to the ramifications of that.

As to  _why_  he still carried the Oblivion button with him, Negaduck didn't know.

It was definitely useless now.

A button wouldn't break him out of jail.

The explosives might do some damage, though.

Stuffing his Failed-Idea Button back into his pocket, Negaduck studied the bars holding him hostage as he buttoned up his suit and tied his cape around his neck. It didn't take long for him to pinpoint which bar was the structurally weakest and he piled his explosives around it, locating his box of matches quickly and lighting a stick of dynamite. He dropped the match to the fuse and rolled under his cot, curling into a ball and tucking his head and neck under his arms, waiting for the explosion.

Which… never came. After some minutes, Negaduck accounting for unusually long fuses and delayed explosions, he peeked out to see the fuses gone. Burned away.

But they hadn't fired an explosion.

Grabbing the kerosene canister out of his pocket, he aimed and sprayed some over the dynamite and ducked his head under the cot …

… And it  _still_  didn't go off.

Groaning in irritation, Negaduck crawled out from his temporary bunker and went to investigate.

If it exploded in his face as soon as he walked all the way over there he swore to everything that was  _un_ holy…

Crouching down, he grabbed for a pistol, pocketing the kerosene again. Carefully sifted through the explosives with the barrel of his gun, his eyes roved over the travel-sized dynamite, searching for  _something_ —

The explosives fired, little flags shooting out that read "Bang!" as Quackerjack's unnerving cackle echoed around the cell.

Negaduck leaped away in surprise, dropping his weapon as he stumbled backwards into the cot. He hit the metal frame hard with his lower back and growled in pain as he collapsed, a hand coming around to massage the area that would soon be blossoming into a bruise.

He'd forgotten about Quackerjack's toy explosives. Negaduck had confiscated the "weapons" from the deranged clown when the toymaker had brought them into Negaduck's warehouse for consideration. Quackerjack had gotten nothing more than an earful of Negaduck's screamed insults and his toys taken away, which Negaduck was sure Quackerjack had never forgiven him for. He took such pride in his stupid toys, especially the ones that looked like weapons but were just made for frivolity.

Negaduck had briefly considered giving out those duds to his enemies while keeping the really dangerous stuff for himself, but he'd simply thrown them in a pile with other weapons and had forgotten about them.

He must have grabbed the wrong explosives last time he was stuffing his pockets for work.

Snarling at the toy maker who wasn't present, Negaduck scooped up his gun and shot at the explosives, emptying the magazine into the toys. He took some satisfaction from seeing the sagging flags and pockmarked plastic dynamite.

So, what was this tightness in his chest? How come he breathed deep shuddering breaths, his hands shaking so badly that he dropped the pistol, burying his fingers in the fabric of his cape to steady them? Why did it seem that the world was spiraling down into the hole of Oblivion, colors swirling and sounds blurring together into a cacophony of white noise?

_Well, let's take stock of the situation, shall we?_ he thought bitterly.

He was still trapped in this cell, having exhausted all his resources.

His father was still at large.

There was who knows what happening outside.

And Gosalyn was probably — no,  _definitely_  — on her way to fight Stellar. If she was smart enough to figure out that whatever was happening was a distraction. Which, she was.

Negaduck took deep breaths, trying to steady his heart as his mind raced, desperate to think of something else he could do to get out. To fight. To help her.

Loud footsteps pounded on the stairs leading to the cells, getting louder as they descended. Negaduck groaned. Here came the cavalry. Some lingering officers must have heard him shooting his gun and were on their way to subdue him.

Sitting up, Negaduck grabbed his fedora from under his cot and plastered it on his head, painting a look of petulance on his face.

Maybe he could use this. The officer was coming down to quiet him down. He probably wasn't expecting Negaduck to be able to put up a fight. Maybe Negaduck could wrestle the keys from the cop's grasp. Grab his gun strapped to his belt and force him to open the cell.

He eagerly watched the door open, creaking loudly around the empty room. Seeing who stepped through the doorway, Negaduck blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Or hallucinating.

Dipwing Dork was standing there, a ring of keys in his hand, as he made eye contact with his enemy.

There was absolutely _no way_  that this was actually happening.

"Get up," Darkwing barked as he walked to the cell. Choosing a key from the twenty some on the ring, he fit it into the keyhole and twisted it to see if it would unlock the door. When it didn't, he moved onto the next key. And the next.

"I'm sorry, Negaduck is unavailable to take your call at this time. Please leave a message after the stunned silence," Negaduck growled, still disbelieving his own eyes.

"Yes, yes," Darkwing sneered. "I know, this is… well…  _weird_. But you have to get up." He groaned as another key didn't unlock the door and he switched to the next.

"Like I'd do anything  _you_  say," Negaduck said, crossing his arms and refusing to get up from his position on the floor.

"Not even if I said that Gosalyn needs your help?" Darkwing asked, another key jingling with the other failures as his fingers moved back to pick up a potential. "I know you two have been working together," he said, finally finding the key and unlocking the door, "I even know that for  _some reason_ , she likes you. Even trusts you."

Darkwing opened the jail cell and tossed the key ring to the floor. He crouched down to Negaduck's level, Negaduck eyeing him warily.

Darkwing scowled darkly at him. "And while I think she's crazy,  _I_  trust  _her_. So, if my math is right: Gosalyn trusts you, I trust Gosalyn, therefore," he shuddered, "I trust you. And right now she's planning on fighting a group of villains by herself."

"There's…" Negaduck cleared his throat, hating himself for having to do it. "There's villains from the Negaverse here?"

"Yes," Darkwing bit out. "And Gosalyn made me promise to not interfere unless it was absolutely necessary. But you," Darkwing pointed to Negaduck, "didn't promise her anything."

Negaduck sneered. "Getting a little sneaky, aren't you?"

"Well," Darkwing shrugged, "living with Gosalyn for almost fifteen years will make you pick up a few of her habits. Like finding loop holes."

Negaduck almost smiled as he thought of Gosalyn making her own rules to suit her needs, but he stopped himself in time. Darkwing Duck couldn't see him smiling. What would  _that_  do for Negaduck's image?

"Will you help her send your cronies back to the Negaverse without destroying half the city?" Darkwing pressed, determination like steel in his gaze.

"Not for you, I won't."

" _I_ ," Darkwing said, gesturing to himself, "am not asking for me. Do it for her."

Well.

Negaduck couldn't say no to that.

Not even when Dipwing Dork was asking him.

"Just to be clear," Negaduck said, standing and pushing Darkwing out of his way as he bulldozed up the stairs, "this won't do you any favors in the future."

"This may come as a shock," Darkwing said, following Negaduck out of the police station. "But I'm not doing this for  _you_."

Negaduck rolled his eyes as he stepped out onto the sidewalk, glancing around to see if there were any fires or explosions or any sort of power surges to indicate where this fight was happening.

There was nothing. The streets were eerily quiet.

"Docks," Darkwing said, irritation tinging his voice.

All the disdain for his Goody Two-Shoes twin melted away as Negaduck looked back towards Darkwing.

"The docks? Audubon Bay docks?"

"What other docks are there?" Darkwing asked, still irritated but now also confused.

Negaduck didn't answer him, instead turning down the street and sprinting away. Audubon Bay docks were, as all docks are, on the water. And if Gosalyn was going to meet the villains  _there_ …

Picking up his pace, he dodged vans and jumped over car hoods as he took short cuts towards the Bay.

He'd known Gosalyn would need his help if she was battling Stellar. But as he rounded another corner and neatly stepped out of the way of an oncoming semi, Negaduck knew for a fact that Gosalyn would need his help no matter who she was going up against.

She was not only facing two universes colliding, she was facing her biggest fear.

And Negaduck would be damned if he left her alone for that.


	13. Welcome To The Jungle

**_A/N: Long chapter ahead. I hope the action scenes make sense, but I got myself into this mess… Anyway, happy reading!_ **

**_~RS_ **

 

Gosalyn hadn’t told her father about the nightmares. 

How she hadn’t been able to sleep through the night for weeks after the Duckburg case because she had woken, gasping and clawing and thrashing. How she’s slowly realize, through her dream-induced panic, that she was home and warm and safe and not drowning underwater. How she’d been unable to get through the day without at least three cups of coffee because her nights had been reduced to maybe three hours of sleep if she’d been lucky. 

She hadn’t told him that those nightmares sometimes came back when she least expected them. That she couldn’t go back to sleep once she’d been shocked to wakefulness, her heart pounding so hard it felt as though it were bruising her ribcage. 

Darkwing was a worrier. She didn’t like to add to his already full plate of “parenting Gosalyn and saving St. Canard at the same time” by bothering him with nightmares.   

But she’d told Negaduck about them. 

It had been an accident. 

He’d had the luck — or perhaps, misfortune — of catching her having a nightmare. 

One day, she’d passed out on his battered couch after a case, falling onto cushions that were barely stuffed anymore and snoozing into dust bunnies on the armrest. It wasn’t long before she’d woken, panting and bathed in a cold sweat. It took her a half an hour on a good night to center herself again, to bring herself back to reality. But she’d snapped out of it real quickly that day with Negaduck standing next to the sofa, one eyebrow raised above the other.

She wasn’t sure if it was Negaduck’s presence — she’d never woken from these nightmares and had someone else _there_ — or if it was his skeptical look that had made Gosalyn tell him everything. 

She still didn’t know. 

But she had. 

Told him everything. 

Like a faucet that had been cleaned of rust and grime, it all just came pouring out of her. 

He’d just nodded, a knowing look in his eyes, which somehow made everything better. He had then explained that you don’t get to be the crime boss of the Negaverse without experiencing some horrors that keep you up at night. 

And that was how she’d talked through the worst of her nightmares with _Negaduck_. Of all people. 

She started spending the night in the Negaverse on purpose, knowing Negaduck would be there when she woke up, already aware as to why she’d jolted awake in a panic. She ended up telling Darkwing some nonsense about going to visit Honker at his university or to see Scrooge McDuck or whatever excuse that she could come up with so he wouldn’t miss her absence at night. 

And, slowly, over time, she managed to gain back one hour of sleep. Then two. Then three until she was sleeping through most nights uninterrupted. 

Negaduck, on the other hand, never seemed to sleep. Ever. He went into this bedroom, sure. Even closed the door. But he always opened it right away after Gosalyn knocked. And, the few times she’d wandered in without any warning, he’d been awake. Polishing his arsenal of guns, building some new bigger weapon, or modifying his costume to accommodate a new weapon. 

He’d always listen but he’d rarely say anything. That was better. Gosalyn didn’t want Negaduck’s pity. She didn’t even want him to comfort her; that was Darkwing’s job. But Negaduck’s quiet presence and steady gaze had been enough to get her through the worst of those nights. Darkwing was too frantic when it came to these types of things, so desperate to help he ended up smothering. 

But Negaduck. He kept his distance. Was just _there_. Which was all Gosalyn had needed.  

Now, though. She wished she _had_ told her father about the nightmares so he would have ignored her when she said she didn’t need help. So he would’ve come down to fight alongside her on the Bay despite what she’d said. 

She wished a lot of things in those moments when Paddywhack read and recognized her fear.

Grinning from ear to ear, he rocked the yacht more violently than before, Gosalyn whimpering as she desperately clung to the side. 

Yeah. Her father coming along would have been nice. Her father understanding her fear of water would have been even better. 

Paddywhack grinned down at her and gripped the boat, flipping it on its side. The other villains on the yacht tumbled into the water with screams and cries of protest. But Gosalyn had been prepared, her fingers white as she clung to the boat’s railing. 

“Oh, what fun!” Paddywhack said, swaying the boat back and forth to try and loosen Gosalyn’s hold. She grit her teeth, trying to ignore how her fingers were slipping on the varnished wood. “It seems our little duckling has a fear of water!” 

“I do not!” Gosalyn protested. Only _large bodies_ of water. Which didn’t help her _now_ , of course, as she swayed above the city’s largest body of water. But still. The distinction was an important one to make. 

“Liquidator, I’m sure you can have some fun with this!” Paddywhack said, cackling, and with that, he released his hold. 

The boat turned upside down and careened towards the water. 

Gosalyn let go of the railing and swung her legs away, trying to escape the yacht’s trajectory as she plummeted down towards the Bay. Sucking in a breath, she closed her eyes as she came in contact with the cold waves, trying not to gasp as she was submerged. 

She was immediately struck by the surrounding darkness and absolute silence. A black suffocating silence. Except for her hammering heart, the organ palpitating so hard she was sure it would beat right out of her chest. Opening her eyes, Gosalyn moved around in circles, searching for light. Light meant surface. Light meant air. 

Pumping her arms wildly, she pushed her way towards the light, still resolutely keeping her beak shut. Her fingers had gone numb from holding onto the railing of the yacht so tightly for so long, but she kept up the motion, arms moving through the murky waters. 

Gosalyn kicked harder when the light was blotted out by the looming shadow of the falling yacht. Time moved agonizingly slow as the boat fell, the railing Gosalyn had been so desperately clinging to falling towards her head. 

Changing her direction, Gosalyn swam out. Away. Trying with everything she had in her to get out of the shadow of the yacht. She could make it. She _could_. Her lungs burned and her fingers slowly regained feeling, tiny pinpricks of sensation dancing up and down her arms. 

Light streamed down on her once more and Gosalyn moved towards it, out and up. She could make it. She was going to make it.

Gosalyn heard and felt the impact of the yacht when it came crashing down into the Bay. The force of the impact sucked her back towards the yacht, the railing slamming into the back of her knee. She cried out as her leg gave way, water rushing into her now open beak as air bubbles effortlessly floated to the surface above her. Gosalyn tried not to swallow any of the water now rushing into her mouth as she was dragged downwards by the weight of the sinking yacht. Kicking with her one good leg, Gosalyn reached and pumped her arms towards the light, eventually able to free her damaged leg. 

Her muscles burning and her lungs on fire, Gosalyn pushed the last few feet to the surface, spitting out the water from her mouth and finally gasping in oxygen. The ability to breathe, no longer stuck fighting for her life, helped her rationalize the situation. She looked around for Paddywhack and found him easily, the giant demon duck standing in Audubon Bay with the water lapping around his ankles. Now, to swim _towards_ or _away from_ …? 

Something in the cold molasses-like depths beneath her grabbed at her kicking legs, pulling her back down beneath the surface of the water. She only had time to gasp in surprise before she was once again submerged, pain radiating up her spine as her bad leg was handled so roughly. Looking around wildly for whatever it had been that had pulled her down, Gosalyn didn’t see anything except the yacht still slowly sinking into the Bay nearby and bubbles racing one another towards the surface. 

“Bored with things going your way for too long? Looking for a challenge? Well, look no further than the Liquidator! Serving up vengeance with a cold watery fist!” 

Gosalyn only had time to register that the whole Bay was talking to her before she felt a swift blow to her abdomen, knocking the air out of her in a burst of bubbles and sending her backwards.

The same something that had grabbed her before — it had to be Liquidator’s hands — pulled her down again, her leg protesting with fiery sensations as her lungs stung for air. Not down, not _down_! Up, she needed to go _up_!

Kicking at her attacker — even though she realized on some level that it was useless to try and kick at a villain _made_ of water — Gosalyn attempted to release his hold on her. He pulled her down, across, up, diagonally, and any direction he wished, the water rushing past her ears in dampened whooshes. A few times, Gosalyn reached up, her fingers breaking the surface of water and her face inches from doing the same only to be tugged away, back down into whirlpools. 

But still she kept fighting — kept struggling — because what else could she do? Give up? 

She could give up! Liquidator would lose interest if his prey was suddenly lifeless. Right? She hoped so.

Going boneless, and trying to ignore the spots that were starting to dot her vision, Gosalyn allowed herself to be tugged around the water. It took Liquidator a few moments to realize he wasn’t getting anymore resistance, but once he did, he slowed until they were both still in the motionless water. 

Gosalyn took her chance and quickly kicked for the sunlight, managing to surface and gulp in air before she was yanked down again. The oxygen helped her focus, made her realize she had to get out of the water. Not just because she was flirting with a massive panic attack or because she needed to not drown, but because her adversary was made of water. But Liquidator wasn’t going to fall for her prone lifeless form again. Not until she actually passed out. Or died.  

So, what else could…? 

Oh, come on, Gosalyn! The answer was so obvious it was embarrassing. 

She had smoke canisters in her costume. Small ones, just enough to use as distractions. She wasn’t sure if they’d work underwater but she was running out of options — and air — so what could it hurt? 

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the small device no larger than her palm and pulled the pin. She swam down towards her adversary. And, probably anticipating her attack and hoping to throw her off, Liquidator pushed her up. 

Gosalyn released the smoke canister and it exploded a moment later, releasing a blue cloud that lingered in the water. And whether he was temporarily blinded, was afraid that Darkwing Duck was going to appear, or if Gosalyn had somehow managed to injure the guy, Liquidator released her in such a hurry, Gosalyn was left spinning with the gentle current. 

As soon as she got her bearings, Gosalyn pushed herself to the surface, breathing in deeply. 

Her inhales were more like gasps. 

Her exhales were coughs. 

Her heart was still pounding so hard it was painful. 

What a time for a panic attack. 

“Clever. Very clever.” Paddywhack stepped up beside her, his massive foot splashing nearby and creating a small tidal wave that swept Gosalyn up and under the water again. She scrambled, frantically paddling for the surface until she reemerged, hair splayed down in her face in wet tendrils as she spit out more dirty Bay water. 

Reaching down into the Bay, Paddywhack pulled out the yacht he’d sunk earlier. Holding it up near his shoulder, he watched all the water to drain out. With his other hand, he grabbed ahold of Gosalyn as if she were a doll, holding her high above the waves. 

And that was fine. 

That was better than fine.

Even if she being held aloft by a crazy villain, at least she wasn’t in the water. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the dark waves.

“There you are, little duckling,” Paddywhack said, his voice sweet. “A port in the storm. So to speak.” 

Gosalyn opened her eyes and immediately wished she hadn’t when her heart thudded with renewed strength at the sight of the Bay. Taking in deep breaths, she looked over to where Paddywhack was pointing and saw the yacht had been righted, the boat sitting atop the Bay’s surface again. 

“No, thanks,” Gosalyn said, eyes going up to Darkwing tower. If only she could run up there now and tell her father that she’d been wrong — _so_ wrong — and curl up in bed. Her nice warm soft dry bed. Ask Darkwing if he could fight off the villains himself. 

And he would. 

Of course he would. 

“Oh, come now,” Paddywhack said, reaching down into the Bay and pulling out the soggy villains one by one. He deposited them onto the deck of the yacht in puddles. “All your friends are there.” 

Paddywhack laughed gleefully at Gosalyn and plopped her down onto the deck of the yacht. She landed wrong on her bad leg, causing her to collapse in a heap. Biting her tongue to withhold the cry of pain, she rolled onto her good side, and slowly stood, using the railing for help. Once on her feet, it was all she could do to concentrate on keeping her weight off the smarting bad leg. 

Quackerjack, Bushroot, Ammonia Pine, and Steelbeak were all on the deck of the boat in various forms of soaked. Quackerjack was shaking his head like a dog and Bushroot squeezed his vines to release the excess moisture. Ammonia Pine was running her mop along the deck, trying to soak up all the dirty Bay water; where she’d found a mop was beyond Gosalyn. Steelbeak had removed his suit jacket, waving it in the air as if that would dry it faster. 

Ammonia Pine was the first to realize Gosalyn had been brought back onto the yacht with all of them. 

“Dirty!” she squealed, coming over to Gosalyn brandishing a scrub brush. Gosalyn backed away a few paces but wasn’t able to go far on her bad leg and Ammonia caught up to her with little effort. 

“Hold still, would ya?” the cleanly villainess asked, scrubbing Gosalyn’s arms and shoulders with her brush. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how to clean clothes. Or a person,” Gosalyn mentioned, wincing as the prickly scrub brush caught her neck, Ammonia vigorously scrubbing Gosalyn’s shoulder. 

“You wouldn’t know clean if if hit you in the face,” Ammonia said. 

“She’s right!” Steelbeak all but screamed next to Gosalyn’s ear. She leaned away from the former F.O.W.L. agent, giving him a scowl. 

He just gave her a knowing look. “Annoying, isn’t it?” he said, crossing his arms. “Imagine havin’ to deal wit dat all da time. Dat’s tinnitus for ya.” 

“Enough,” said Quackerjack, his voice eerily calm. Gosalyn glanced over, Ammonia still scrubbing the life out of Gosalyn’s suit, and felt her stomach plummet down to her toes. 

Quackerjack walked over to Gosalyn, waving Ammonia away. When she wouldn’t move, he reached in his pocket and brought out a small ball. He pulled something, causing it to explode in his hands and sprinkling confetti all over the deck. Ammonia loosed a gasp before she dove, scrubbing at the deck with the same brush she’d been scrubbing Gosalyn with. 

Gosalyn was impressed with, and intimidated by, how effectively Quackerjack had gotten Ammonia out of the way. He wasn’t usually so methodical. 

“How did you escape?” Quackerjack asked. 

“I smoke bombed—” 

“No!” Quackerjack shook his head. “Not just now. Few years ago. When I sent you down into the Bay with my teeth attached to your cape.” 

Gosalyn shuddered at the thought but tried to pass it off as a shrug. She fell back on the lie she’d stuck to for the past few years. “Your teeth malfunctioned. I blame it on faulty…” 

Quackerjack grabbed Gosalyn’s shoulder and pointed what looked like a rubber dagger in her face. 

“It didn’t fault! My inventions don’t _fault_.” 

“Don’t know what to tell you,” Gosalyn said, keeping her face impassive. Was he really threatening her with a rubber dagger? She took back how impressed she’d been earlier. “Maybe the water did something to…” 

“What did I say?” Quackerjack growled, pressing the knife to Gosalyn’s throat. Okay. Definitely real. Looked like rubber, sure, but it was steel that was being held against the tender flesh of her neck. Good to know Quackerjack was now in the business of making real weapons look like toys. Who was _this_ Quackerjack? Where was the insane toy inventor who was bent on destroying the video game business?

“They wouldn’t have faulted. Now, you gonna tell me the truth?” Quackerjack asked, eyes flashing dangerously. 

“I am telling you the truth!” Gosalyn said, letting some of her desperation bleed into her tone. 

Quackerjack growled deep in his throat, grabbing her by the shoulder and dragging her to the yacht’s railing. Gosalyn winced as she hobbled on her bad leg, trying to hide just how much it hurt.

Throwing her against the side of the yacht, Quackerjack grabbed the back of her neck with one hand, holding her head against the railing, cheek pressed into the damp wood. With his other hand, he pressed the knife to her jugular. 

“Oh, yes! _Yes_!” Paddywhack cheered, clapping his hands in childish glee. 

“Quackerjack, are you sure you want to threaten Darkwing’s partner like that?” Bushroot called, his voice uncertain. 

“Forget Darkwing. Are youse sure ya wants ta toss around _Negaduck’s_ counterpart like dat?” Steelbeak asked. 

Quackerjack reeled, brandishing his knife back towards the other villains. “Do not,” he said, his tone dangerously, “say that name.” 

“Which one?” Gosalyn asked, eyeing the murky waters and trying to breathe deeply. Quackerjack returned his attention to her, the fingers that were curled around the back of her neck tightening their hold. 

“Don’t say either if you know what’s good for you,” he said, bringing the knife back to her throat. “Neither of them are here to protect you now. So I’ll ask again: how did you escape from my teeth?” 

“They were _toys_ , Quackerjack! Toys break…” Gosalyn shuddered when the steel of the knife pressed further against her neck, the sharp bite telling her that Quackerjack had broken skin. 

“Not. MY. Toys!” Quackerjack snarled. “You don’t tell me what really happened, and I’ll toss you into the Bay where I’m sure Liquidator would _love_ to get you back for that little smoke stunt you pulled earlier.” 

Gosalyn’s breath caught in her throat when she thought of being back in that water. Spinning and swirling under the waves. Getting dragged around under the surface. Not be able to catch her breath.

She wasn’t going back under there. 

But she wasn’t telling Quackerjack that it had been Negaduck who’d saved her from his teeth all those years ago. 

Ugh, why did the deranged toymaker have to be standing on the same side as her bad leg? 

“Please, Quackerjack,” she said as she lifted up her bad leg slowly. “I’ll tell you, just…” Before she could finish her sentence, she slammed her foot down on top of his, grunting as the pain ricocheted up her spine. Quackerjack cried out, hopping up and down comically.

Gosalyn stood, ignoring the pain in her bad leg and grabbed his wrist, wrestling his knife from his grasp. When he reached for her neck again, Gosalyn spun into him, slamming her elbow up into his abdomen. He grunted, doubling over. Gosalyn easily ducked out from under him, grabbing his knife from his fumbling fingers. Collapsing on the deck, Quackerjack wrapped an arm around his midsection, groaning. 

“When you gonna learn that you just screwed up?” Gosalyn asked. 

Quackerjack half-snarled, half-groaned at her as Gosalyn carefully limped away. 

“Blood!” Ammonia shrieked, pointing at Gosalyn. Gosalyn looked at the knife and found it was lined with, as Ammonia had so _discreetly_ pointed out, blood. She reached up to her neck and winced at the sharp pinprick of pain. Bringing her fingers back down, they were stained with blood. Not a lot, but some. 

“This is a Level Three, possible Level Four, contamination, people!” Ammonia called, sounding like a general ordering troops. Still brandishing her scrubbing brush, Ammonia charged Gosalyn, eyes zeroed in on the knife and Gosalyn’s scarlet tipped fingers. 

“Ammonia,” Gosalyn warned, holding out her hand to stop the mad cleaning lady. Her balance was already off with her injured leg and she didn’t really have the strength to fight off anyone else. 

“Let’s make this a little more… fun,” Paddywhack’s voice boomed over them. Gosalyn, eyes on her oncoming attack from Ammonia Pine missed Paddywhack reaching for the yacht again, tipping it onto its side like he had done earlier. 

“Again?” Bushroot whined as he slid down the deck and tumbled down into the water. 

“This suit won’t evah be clean!” Steelbeak lamented as he slipped towards the Bay. 

Gosalyn, arms pinwheeling, stumbled and smacked her hip on the railing as she went over, crying out in the blossoming pain. Plummeting backwards, the knife flinging from her grasp, Gosalyn sucked in a deep breath as the wind whistled by her in her descent. 

The Bay welcomed her back with watery cold arms, pulling and tugging her downwards into their darkened depths. The cut on her neck stung slightly, but it was nothing compared to her pounding heart, her tight chest, her cold hands. 

No sooner had she been submerged, that another force slammed into her, plunging her deeper into the dank waves. That had to be Ammonia.

The cleaning villainess scrambled wildly, all flailing arms and kicking feet. She managed to kick Gosalyn in her bad leg, Gosalyn’s face screwing up in pain as she withheld the gasp she desperately wanted to loose. Following Ammonia’s lead, Gosalyn swam up towards the surface. 

She had just gasped in a deep breath when she heard Liquidator growl, “Welcome back.” Feeling his watery grasp on her ankles again, Gosalyn took advantage of another deep breath of air, preparing for whirlpools and tidal waves. She had another smoke canister somewhere… 

“Blood!” Ammonia cried again, looking towards Gosalyn. “Level Four! The whole Bay will need to be cleaned!” She reached around in her pockets and pulled out a bottle of something. Gosalyn was trying to decipher the writing on its side, but Liquidator clearly recognized it.

“Ammonia,” he warned. “Don’t dump that…” 

But it was too late. Having unscrewed the lid, Ammonia had emptied the contents into the Bay and Gosalyn immediately recognized the smell. Bleach. She _was_ crazy.

Crazy, yes, but helpful in her own way. Liquidator screeched and left, his watery grip disappearing around Gosalyn’s legs. Seeing her opportunity to escape, Gosalyn saw a nearby bank and started swimming towards it. 

But Ammonia grabbed ahold of Gosalyn’s ankle and pulled her back. Swallowing some Bay water in the motion, Gosalyn coughed and sputtered. 

“Did you not hear me when I said this was a Level Four?” Ammonia asked, her eyes blown wide in panic. Gosalyn didn’t get the chance to respond before Ammonia dunked her head under water, holding her under there even as Gosalyn struggled. Pulling Gosalyn back up, Ammonia used some sort of cloth to scrub at Gosalyn’s neck, Gosalyn crying out as she gasped for air, her hands coming up to push Ammonia away. But the cleaning lady just dunked Gosalyn’s head under water again. When Gosalyn surfaced again, she gulped in air and kicked Ammonia in the abdomen with as much force as she could under the water. 

The kick was enough to distract Ammonia and Gosalyn wriggled free, scrambling away from the cleaning lady as quickly as she could. 

“Did you pour bleach into da Bay?” Steelbeak yelled from somewhere behind Gosalyn, effectively distracting Ammonia. 

“Did you not hear me say Level _Four_ Contamination?”

“Bleach?!” Bushroot shrieked. 

“That’s it! This suit’s ruined!” 

“Oh, what fun!” Paddywhack cried, moving towards the villains and investigating their chaos. His steps sent tidal waves crashing through the Bay, Gosalyn using them to her advantage, riding them towards the shore. She kicked and pumped her arms and slowly the bank drew closer and closer. 

Crawling onto land, Gosalyn collapsed when her bad leg finally gave out, unable to support her weight anymore. Using her arms, she dug into the mud, army crawling up and away from the water. Eyes raking the horizon, Gosalyn searched for somewhere to tuck herself away. Hide herself away from the villains. And the water. 

And it was at that very second that her panic-stricken mind decided to take over. Her breath came out in gasps as her arms trembled, elbows digging into the mud and unable to free themselves. The world swirled around her in dizzying colors and sounds and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to believe what her mind kept suggesting: that she was still in the Bay. That she hadn’t managed to drag herself onto land. That she was dying and _this_ was the fantasy. Something she was imagining to make it easier to deal with. 

Her chest seizing and her heart racing somewhere in her throat, Gosalyn collapsed and curled into a ball, dragging her knees up to her chin as she tried to slow her shallow gasps. 

And suddenly the chill from the Bay was combated by a sudden warmth that made her feathers stand on end. Cracking open one eye, she saw flames dancing in front of her. 

There were no flames underwater. 

So, she _had_ escaped. 

She wasn’t drowning. 

She was on land and there was a fire. 

Opening her eyes fully, she glanced around but saw nothing. There was only fire circled around her, the flames effectively caging her in. 

Something in the back of her mind told her to stand up. To get ready to fight whoever it was that had trapped her in the circle of fire, but she stayed on the ground. Closing her eyes, she hoped her dizziness would pass as she focused on her breathing. Her chest still felt like Paddywhack had sat on it and her hands were shaking, but she knew she wasn’t in the Bay anymore. So, there was some progress. 

Four gunshots erupted from somewhere outside the wall of fire. Gosalyn raised her head, trying to pinpoint the exact location the sound had come from. When she heard only silence, she knew she had to work with the assumption that the shooter was coming for her next. And that she had to do something. 

Still breathing in deep shuddering breaths, Gosalyn stretched her trembling limbs and rolled onto her stomach. Propping herself up onto all fours, she whimpered when her leg sent a jolt of pain like an electric shock up her spine. Gritting her teeth, she shakily got to her feet, patting her costume for some sort of weapon or something with which to fight whoever this was. She came across another smoke canister and a small knife. 

Well. 

Better than nothing. 

Pulling out the knife, she shifted her weight onto her good leg, hoping her injured leg would cooperate when she had to fight whoever was going to come through the fire and confront her. 

Three more shots were fired from somewhere outside the fire wall and Gosalyn’s adrenaline spiked and she had to remind herself to keep drawing in deep breaths. Her chest protested slightly, the dull ache still present, but the need to keep herself alive seemed to war off the panic that had gripped her in its icy talons.

And then she realized.

She’d literally brought a knife to a gun fight. 

Awesome. 

Maybe she could use the blue smoke to distract whoever it was. Throw the canister down on the ground, and try to escape.

Reaching for the canister, Gosalyn thumbed the pin, eyes scanning the wall of flames for any sort of breach. The flames were still burning with the same intensity and height as before. Whoever this was had a lot of experience with fire. 

Just like— 

Wait… 

 

 

**_A/N: Long chapter ahead. I hope the action scenes make sense, but I got myself into this mess… Anyway, happy reading!_ **

**_~RS_ **

 

Gosalyn hadn’t told her father about the nightmares. 

How she hadn’t been able to sleep through the night for weeks after the Duckburg case because she had woken, gasping and clawing and thrashing. How she’s slowly realize, through her dream-induced panic, that she was home and warm and safe and not drowning underwater. How she’d been unable to get through the day without at least three cups of coffee because her nights had been reduced to maybe three hours of sleep if she’d been lucky. 

She hadn’t told him that those nightmares sometimes came back when she least expected them. That she couldn’t go back to sleep once she’d been shocked to wakefulness, her heart pounding so hard it felt as though it were bruising her ribcage. 

Darkwing was a worrier. She didn’t like to add to his already full plate of “parenting Gosalyn and saving St. Canard at the same time” by bothering him with nightmares.   

But she’d told Negaduck about them. 

It had been an accident. 

He’d had the luck — or perhaps, misfortune — of catching her having a nightmare. 

One day, she’d passed out on his battered couch after a case, falling onto cushions that were barely stuffed anymore and snoozing into dust bunnies on the armrest. It wasn’t long before she’d woken, panting and bathed in a cold sweat. It took her a half an hour on a good night to center herself again, to bring herself back to reality. But she’d snapped out of it real quickly that day with Negaduck standing next to the sofa, one eyebrow raised above the other.

She wasn’t sure if it was Negaduck’s presence — she’d never woken from these nightmares and had someone else _there_ — or if it was his skeptical look that had made Gosalyn tell him everything. 

She still didn’t know. 

But she had. 

Told him everything. 

Like a faucet that had been cleaned of rust and grime, it all just came pouring out of her. 

He’d just nodded, a knowing look in his eyes, which somehow made everything better. He had then explained that you don’t get to be the crime boss of the Negaverse without experiencing some horrors that keep you up at night. 

And that was how she’d talked through the worst of her nightmares with _Negaduck_. Of all people. 

She started spending the night in the Negaverse on purpose, knowing Negaduck would be there when she woke up, already aware as to why she’d jolted awake in a panic. She ended up telling Darkwing some nonsense about going to visit Honker at his university or to see Scrooge McDuck or whatever excuse that she could come up with so he wouldn’t miss her absence at night. 

And, slowly, over time, she managed to gain back one hour of sleep. Then two. Then three until she was sleeping through most nights uninterrupted. 

Negaduck, on the other hand, never seemed to sleep. Ever. He went into this bedroom, sure. Even closed the door. But he always opened it right away after Gosalyn knocked. And, the few times she’d wandered in without any warning, he’d been awake. Polishing his arsenal of guns, building some new bigger weapon, or modifying his costume to accommodate a new weapon. 

He’d always listen but he’d rarely say anything. That was better. Gosalyn didn’t want Negaduck’s pity. She didn’t even want him to comfort her; that was Darkwing’s job. But Negaduck’s quiet presence and steady gaze had been enough to get her through the worst of those nights. Darkwing was too frantic when it came to these types of things, so desperate to help he ended up smothering. 

But Negaduck. He kept his distance. Was just _there_. Which was all Gosalyn had needed.  

Now, though. She wished she _had_ told her father about the nightmares so he would have ignored her when she said she didn’t need help. So he would’ve come down to fight alongside her on the Bay despite what she’d said. 

She wished a lot of things in those moments when Paddywhack read and recognized her fear.

Grinning from ear to ear, he rocked the yacht more violently than before, Gosalyn whimpering as she desperately clung to the side. 

Yeah. Her father coming along would have been nice. Her father understanding her fear of water would have been even better. 

Paddywhack grinned down at her and gripped the boat, flipping it on its side. The other villains on the yacht tumbled into the water with screams and cries of protest. But Gosalyn had been prepared, her fingers white as she clung to the boat’s railing. 

“Oh, what fun!” Paddywhack said, swaying the boat back and forth to try and loosen Gosalyn’s hold. She grit her teeth, trying to ignore how her fingers were slipping on the varnished wood. “It seems our little duckling has a fear of water!” 

“I do not!” Gosalyn protested. Only _large bodies_ of water. Which didn’t help her _now_ , of course, as she swayed above the city’s largest body of water. But still. The distinction was an important one to make. 

“Liquidator, I’m sure you can have some fun with this!” Paddywhack said, cackling, and with that, he released his hold. 

The boat turned upside down and careened towards the water. 

Gosalyn let go of the railing and swung her legs away, trying to escape the yacht’s trajectory as she plummeted down towards the Bay. Sucking in a breath, she closed her eyes as she came in contact with the cold waves, trying not to gasp as she was submerged. 

She was immediately struck by the surrounding darkness and absolute silence. A black suffocating silence. Except for her hammering heart, the organ palpitating so hard she was sure it would beat right out of her chest. Opening her eyes, Gosalyn moved around in circles, searching for light. Light meant surface. Light meant air. 

Pumping her arms wildly, she pushed her way towards the light, still resolutely keeping her beak shut. Her fingers had gone numb from holding onto the railing of the yacht so tightly for so long, but she kept up the motion, arms moving through the murky waters. 

Gosalyn kicked harder when the light was blotted out by the looming shadow of the falling yacht. Time moved agonizingly slow as the boat fell, the railing Gosalyn had been so desperately clinging to falling towards her head. 

Changing her direction, Gosalyn swam out. Away. Trying with everything she had in her to get out of the shadow of the yacht. She could make it. She _could_. Her lungs burned and her fingers slowly regained feeling, tiny pinpricks of sensation dancing up and down her arms. 

Light streamed down on her once more and Gosalyn moved towards it, out and up. She could make it. She was going to make it.

Gosalyn heard and felt the impact of the yacht when it came crashing down into the Bay. The force of the impact sucked her back towards the yacht, the railing slamming into the back of her knee. She cried out as her leg gave way, water rushing into her now open beak as air bubbles effortlessly floated to the surface above her. Gosalyn tried not to swallow any of the water now rushing into her mouth as she was dragged downwards by the weight of the sinking yacht. Kicking with her one good leg, Gosalyn reached and pumped her arms towards the light, eventually able to free her damaged leg. 

Her muscles burning and her lungs on fire, Gosalyn pushed the last few feet to the surface, spitting out the water from her mouth and finally gasping in oxygen. The ability to breathe, no longer stuck fighting for her life, helped her rationalize the situation. She looked around for Paddywhack and found him easily, the giant demon duck standing in Audubon Bay with the water lapping around his ankles. Now, to swim _towards_ or _away from_ …? 

Something in the cold molasses-like depths beneath her grabbed at her kicking legs, pulling her back down beneath the surface of the water. She only had time to gasp in surprise before she was once again submerged, pain radiating up her spine as her bad leg was handled so roughly. Looking around wildly for whatever it had been that had pulled her down, Gosalyn didn’t see anything except the yacht still slowly sinking into the Bay nearby and bubbles racing one another towards the surface. 

“Bored with things going your way for too long? Looking for a challenge? Well, look no further than the Liquidator! Serving up vengeance with a cold watery fist!” 

Gosalyn only had time to register that the whole Bay was talking to her before she felt a swift blow to her abdomen, knocking the air out of her in a burst of bubbles and sending her backwards.

The same something that had grabbed her before — it had to be Liquidator’s hands — pulled her down again, her leg protesting with fiery sensations as her lungs stung for air. Not down, not _down_! Up, she needed to go _up_!

Kicking at her attacker — even though she realized on some level that it was useless to try and kick at a villain _made_ of water — Gosalyn attempted to release his hold on her. He pulled her down, across, up, diagonally, and any direction he wished, the water rushing past her ears in dampened whooshes. A few times, Gosalyn reached up, her fingers breaking the surface of water and her face inches from doing the same only to be tugged away, back down into whirlpools. 

But still she kept fighting — kept struggling — because what else could she do? Give up? 

She could give up! Liquidator would lose interest if his prey was suddenly lifeless. Right? She hoped so.

Going boneless, and trying to ignore the spots that were starting to dot her vision, Gosalyn allowed herself to be tugged around the water. It took Liquidator a few moments to realize he wasn’t getting anymore resistance, but once he did, he slowed until they were both still in the motionless water. 

Gosalyn took her chance and quickly kicked for the sunlight, managing to surface and gulp in air before she was yanked down again. The oxygen helped her focus, made her realize she had to get out of the water. Not just because she was flirting with a massive panic attack or because she needed to not drown, but because her adversary was made of water. But Liquidator wasn’t going to fall for her prone lifeless form again. Not until she actually passed out. Or died.  

So, what else could…? 

Oh, come on, Gosalyn! The answer was so obvious it was embarrassing. 

She had smoke canisters in her costume. Small ones, just enough to use as distractions. She wasn’t sure if they’d work underwater but she was running out of options — and air — so what could it hurt? 

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the small device no larger than her palm and pulled the pin. She swam down towards her adversary. And, probably anticipating her attack and hoping to throw her off, Liquidator pushed her up. 

Gosalyn released the smoke canister and it exploded a moment later, releasing a blue cloud that lingered in the water. And whether he was temporarily blinded, was afraid that Darkwing Duck was going to appear, or if Gosalyn had somehow managed to injure the guy, Liquidator released her in such a hurry, Gosalyn was left spinning with the gentle current. 

As soon as she got her bearings, Gosalyn pushed herself to the surface, breathing in deeply. 

Her inhales were more like gasps. 

Her exhales were coughs. 

Her heart was still pounding so hard it was painful. 

What a time for a panic attack. 

“Clever. Very clever.” Paddywhack stepped up beside her, his massive foot splashing nearby and creating a small tidal wave that swept Gosalyn up and under the water again. She scrambled, frantically paddling for the surface until she reemerged, hair splayed down in her face in wet tendrils as she spit out more dirty Bay water. 

Reaching down into the Bay, Paddywhack pulled out the yacht he’d sunk earlier. Holding it up near his shoulder, he watched all the water to drain out. With his other hand, he grabbed ahold of Gosalyn as if she were a doll, holding her high above the waves. 

And that was fine. 

That was better than fine.

Even if she being held aloft by a crazy villain, at least she wasn’t in the water. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the dark waves.

“There you are, little duckling,” Paddywhack said, his voice sweet. “A port in the storm. So to speak.” 

Gosalyn opened her eyes and immediately wished she hadn’t when her heart thudded with renewed strength at the sight of the Bay. Taking in deep breaths, she looked over to where Paddywhack was pointing and saw the yacht had been righted, the boat sitting atop the Bay’s surface again. 

“No, thanks,” Gosalyn said, eyes going up to Darkwing tower. If only she could run up there now and tell her father that she’d been wrong — _so_ wrong — and curl up in bed. Her nice warm soft dry bed. Ask Darkwing if he could fight off the villains himself. 

And he would. 

Of course he would. 

“Oh, come now,” Paddywhack said, reaching down into the Bay and pulling out the soggy villains one by one. He deposited them onto the deck of the yacht in puddles. “All your friends are there.” 

Paddywhack laughed gleefully at Gosalyn and plopped her down onto the deck of the yacht. She landed wrong on her bad leg, causing her to collapse in a heap. Biting her tongue to withhold the cry of pain, she rolled onto her good side, and slowly stood, using the railing for help. Once on her feet, it was all she could do to concentrate on keeping her weight off the smarting bad leg. 

Quackerjack, Bushroot, Ammonia Pine, and Steelbeak were all on the deck of the boat in various forms of soaked. Quackerjack was shaking his head like a dog and Bushroot squeezed his vines to release the excess moisture. Ammonia Pine was running her mop along the deck, trying to soak up all the dirty Bay water; where she’d found a mop was beyond Gosalyn. Steelbeak had removed his suit jacket, waving it in the air as if that would dry it faster. 

Ammonia Pine was the first to realize Gosalyn had been brought back onto the yacht with all of them. 

“Dirty!” she squealed, coming over to Gosalyn brandishing a scrub brush. Gosalyn backed away a few paces but wasn’t able to go far on her bad leg and Ammonia caught up to her with little effort. 

“Hold still, would ya?” the cleanly villainess asked, scrubbing Gosalyn’s arms and shoulders with her brush. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how to clean clothes. Or a person,” Gosalyn mentioned, wincing as the prickly scrub brush caught her neck, Ammonia vigorously scrubbing Gosalyn’s shoulder. 

“You wouldn’t know clean if if hit you in the face,” Ammonia said. 

“She’s right!” Steelbeak all but screamed next to Gosalyn’s ear. She leaned away from the former F.O.W.L. agent, giving him a scowl. 

He just gave her a knowing look. “Annoying, isn’t it?” he said, crossing his arms. “Imagine havin’ to deal wit dat all da time. Dat’s tinnitus for ya.” 

“Enough,” said Quackerjack, his voice eerily calm. Gosalyn glanced over, Ammonia still scrubbing the life out of Gosalyn’s suit, and felt her stomach plummet down to her toes. 

Quackerjack walked over to Gosalyn, waving Ammonia away. When she wouldn’t move, he reached in his pocket and brought out a small ball. He pulled something, causing it to explode in his hands and sprinkling confetti all over the deck. Ammonia loosed a gasp before she dove, scrubbing at the deck with the same brush she’d been scrubbing Gosalyn with. 

Gosalyn was impressed with, and intimidated by, how effectively Quackerjack had gotten Ammonia out of the way. He wasn’t usually so methodical. 

“How did you escape?” Quackerjack asked. 

“I smoke bombed—” 

“No!” Quackerjack shook his head. “Not just now. Few years ago. When I sent you down into the Bay with my teeth attached to your cape.” 

Gosalyn shuddered at the thought but tried to pass it off as a shrug. She fell back on the lie she’d stuck to for the past few years. “Your teeth malfunctioned. I blame it on faulty…” 

Quackerjack grabbed Gosalyn’s shoulder and pointed what looked like a rubber dagger in her face. 

“It didn’t fault! My inventions don’t _fault_.” 

“Don’t know what to tell you,” Gosalyn said, keeping her face impassive. Was he really threatening her with a rubber dagger? She took back how impressed she’d been earlier. “Maybe the water did something to…” 

“What did I say?” Quackerjack growled, pressing the knife to Gosalyn’s throat. Okay. Definitely real. Looked like rubber, sure, but it was steel that was being held against the tender flesh of her neck. Good to know Quackerjack was now in the business of making real weapons look like toys. Who was _this_ Quackerjack? Where was the insane toy inventor who was bent on destroying the video game business?

“They wouldn’t have faulted. Now, you gonna tell me the truth?” Quackerjack asked, eyes flashing dangerously. 

“I am telling you the truth!” Gosalyn said, letting some of her desperation bleed into her tone. 

Quackerjack growled deep in his throat, grabbing her by the shoulder and dragging her to the yacht’s railing. Gosalyn winced as she hobbled on her bad leg, trying to hide just how much it hurt.

Throwing her against the side of the yacht, Quackerjack grabbed the back of her neck with one hand, holding her head against the railing, cheek pressed into the damp wood. With his other hand, he pressed the knife to her jugular. 

“Oh, yes! _Yes_!” Paddywhack cheered, clapping his hands in childish glee. 

“Quackerjack, are you sure you want to threaten Darkwing’s partner like that?” Bushroot called, his voice uncertain. 

“Forget Darkwing. Are youse sure ya wants ta toss around _Negaduck’s_ counterpart like dat?” Steelbeak asked. 

Quackerjack reeled, brandishing his knife back towards the other villains. “Do not,” he said, his tone dangerously, “say that name.” 

“Which one?” Gosalyn asked, eyeing the murky waters and trying to breathe deeply. Quackerjack returned his attention to her, the fingers that were curled around the back of her neck tightening their hold. 

“Don’t say either if you know what’s good for you,” he said, bringing the knife back to her throat. “Neither of them are here to protect you now. So I’ll ask again: how did you escape from my teeth?” 

“They were _toys_ , Quackerjack! Toys break…” Gosalyn shuddered when the steel of the knife pressed further against her neck, the sharp bite telling her that Quackerjack had broken skin. 

“Not. MY. Toys!” Quackerjack snarled. “You don’t tell me what really happened, and I’ll toss you into the Bay where I’m sure Liquidator would _love_ to get you back for that little smoke stunt you pulled earlier.” 

Gosalyn’s breath caught in her throat when she thought of being back in that water. Spinning and swirling under the waves. Getting dragged around under the surface. Not be able to catch her breath.

She wasn’t going back under there. 

But she wasn’t telling Quackerjack that it had been Negaduck who’d saved her from his teeth all those years ago. 

Ugh, why did the deranged toymaker have to be standing on the same side as her bad leg? 

“Please, Quackerjack,” she said as she lifted up her bad leg slowly. “I’ll tell you, just…” Before she could finish her sentence, she slammed her foot down on top of his, grunting as the pain ricocheted up her spine. Quackerjack cried out, hopping up and down comically.

Gosalyn stood, ignoring the pain in her bad leg and grabbed his wrist, wrestling his knife from his grasp. When he reached for her neck again, Gosalyn spun into him, slamming her elbow up into his abdomen. He grunted, doubling over. Gosalyn easily ducked out from under him, grabbing his knife from his fumbling fingers. Collapsing on the deck, Quackerjack wrapped an arm around his midsection, groaning. 

“When you gonna learn that you just screwed up?” Gosalyn asked. 

Quackerjack half-snarled, half-groaned at her as Gosalyn carefully limped away. 

“Blood!” Ammonia shrieked, pointing at Gosalyn. Gosalyn looked at the knife and found it was lined with, as Ammonia had so _discreetly_ pointed out, blood. She reached up to her neck and winced at the sharp pinprick of pain. Bringing her fingers back down, they were stained with blood. Not a lot, but some. 

“This is a Level Three, possible Level Four, contamination, people!” Ammonia called, sounding like a general ordering troops. Still brandishing her scrubbing brush, Ammonia charged Gosalyn, eyes zeroed in on the knife and Gosalyn’s scarlet tipped fingers. 

“Ammonia,” Gosalyn warned, holding out her hand to stop the mad cleaning lady. Her balance was already off with her injured leg and she didn’t really have the strength to fight off anyone else. 

“Let’s make this a little more… fun,” Paddywhack’s voice boomed over them. Gosalyn, eyes on her oncoming attack from Ammonia Pine missed Paddywhack reaching for the yacht again, tipping it onto its side like he had done earlier. 

“Again?” Bushroot whined as he slid down the deck and tumbled down into the water. 

“This suit won’t evah be clean!” Steelbeak lamented as he slipped towards the Bay. 

Gosalyn, arms pinwheeling, stumbled and smacked her hip on the railing as she went over, crying out in the blossoming pain. Plummeting backwards, the knife flinging from her grasp, Gosalyn sucked in a deep breath as the wind whistled by her in her descent. 

The Bay welcomed her back with watery cold arms, pulling and tugging her downwards into their darkened depths. The cut on her neck stung slightly, but it was nothing compared to her pounding heart, her tight chest, her cold hands. 

No sooner had she been submerged, that another force slammed into her, plunging her deeper into the dank waves. That had to be Ammonia.

The cleaning villainess scrambled wildly, all flailing arms and kicking feet. She managed to kick Gosalyn in her bad leg, Gosalyn’s face screwing up in pain as she withheld the gasp she desperately wanted to loose. Following Ammonia’s lead, Gosalyn swam up towards the surface. 

She had just gasped in a deep breath when she heard Liquidator growl, “Welcome back.” Feeling his watery grasp on her ankles again, Gosalyn took advantage of another deep breath of air, preparing for whirlpools and tidal waves. She had another smoke canister somewhere… 

“Blood!” Ammonia cried again, looking towards Gosalyn. “Level Four! The whole Bay will need to be cleaned!” She reached around in her pockets and pulled out a bottle of something. Gosalyn was trying to decipher the writing on its side, but Liquidator clearly recognized it.

“Ammonia,” he warned. “Don’t dump that…” 

But it was too late. Having unscrewed the lid, Ammonia had emptied the contents into the Bay and Gosalyn immediately recognized the smell. Bleach. She _was_ crazy.

Crazy, yes, but helpful in her own way. Liquidator screeched and left, his watery grip disappearing around Gosalyn’s legs. Seeing her opportunity to escape, Gosalyn saw a nearby bank and started swimming towards it. 

But Ammonia grabbed ahold of Gosalyn’s ankle and pulled her back. Swallowing some Bay water in the motion, Gosalyn coughed and sputtered. 

“Did you not hear me when I said this was a Level Four?” Ammonia asked, her eyes blown wide in panic. Gosalyn didn’t get the chance to respond before Ammonia dunked her head under water, holding her under there even as Gosalyn struggled. Pulling Gosalyn back up, Ammonia used some sort of cloth to scrub at Gosalyn’s neck, Gosalyn crying out as she gasped for air, her hands coming up to push Ammonia away. But the cleaning lady just dunked Gosalyn’s head under water again. When Gosalyn surfaced again, she gulped in air and kicked Ammonia in the abdomen with as much force as she could under the water. 

The kick was enough to distract Ammonia and Gosalyn wriggled free, scrambling away from the cleaning lady as quickly as she could. 

“Did you pour bleach into da Bay?” Steelbeak yelled from somewhere behind Gosalyn, effectively distracting Ammonia. 

“Did you not hear me say Level _Four_ Contamination?”

“Bleach?!” Bushroot shrieked. 

“That’s it! This suit’s ruined!” 

“Oh, what fun!” Paddywhack cried, moving towards the villains and investigating their chaos. His steps sent tidal waves crashing through the Bay, Gosalyn using them to her advantage, riding them towards the shore. She kicked and pumped her arms and slowly the bank drew closer and closer. 

Crawling onto land, Gosalyn collapsed when her bad leg finally gave out, unable to support her weight anymore. Using her arms, she dug into the mud, army crawling up and away from the water. Eyes raking the horizon, Gosalyn searched for somewhere to tuck herself away. Hide herself away from the villains. And the water. 

And it was at that very second that her panic-stricken mind decided to take over. Her breath came out in gasps as her arms trembled, elbows digging into the mud and unable to free themselves. The world swirled around her in dizzying colors and sounds and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to believe what her mind kept suggesting: that she was still in the Bay. That she hadn’t managed to drag herself onto land. That she was dying and _this_ was the fantasy. Something she was imagining to make it easier to deal with. 

Her chest seizing and her heart racing somewhere in her throat, Gosalyn collapsed and curled into a ball, dragging her knees up to her chin as she tried to slow her shallow gasps. 

And suddenly the chill from the Bay was combated by a sudden warmth that made her feathers stand on end. Cracking open one eye, she saw flames dancing in front of her. 

There were no flames underwater. 

So, she _had_ escaped. 

She wasn’t drowning. 

She was on land and there was a fire. 

Opening her eyes fully, she glanced around but saw nothing. There was only fire circled around her, the flames effectively caging her in. 

Something in the back of her mind told her to stand up. To get ready to fight whoever it was that had trapped her in the circle of fire, but she stayed on the ground. Closing her eyes, she hoped her dizziness would pass as she focused on her breathing. Her chest still felt like Paddywhack had sat on it and her hands were shaking, but she knew she wasn’t in the Bay anymore. So, there was some progress. 

Four gunshots erupted from somewhere outside the wall of fire. Gosalyn raised her head, trying to pinpoint the exact location the sound had come from. When she heard only silence, she knew she had to work with the assumption that the shooter was coming for her next. And that she had to do something. 

Still breathing in deep shuddering breaths, Gosalyn stretched her trembling limbs and rolled onto her stomach. Propping herself up onto all fours, she whimpered when her leg sent a jolt of pain like an electric shock up her spine. Gritting her teeth, she shakily got to her feet, patting her costume for some sort of weapon or something with which to fight whoever this was. She came across another smoke canister and a small knife. 

Well. 

Better than nothing. 

Pulling out the knife, she shifted her weight onto her good leg, hoping her injured leg would cooperate when she had to fight whoever was going to come through the fire and confront her. 

Three more shots were fired from somewhere outside the fire wall and Gosalyn’s adrenaline spiked and she had to remind herself to keep drawing in deep breaths. Her chest protested slightly, the dull ache still present, but the need to keep herself alive seemed to war off the panic that had gripped her in its icy talons.

And then she realized.

She’d literally brought a knife to a gun fight. 

Awesome. 

Maybe she could use the blue smoke to distract whoever it was. Throw the canister down on the ground, and try to escape.

Reaching for the canister, Gosalyn thumbed the pin, eyes scanning the wall of flames for any sort of breach. The flames were still burning with the same intensity and height as before. Whoever this was had a lot of experience with fire. 

Just like— 

Wait… 

 

 

 


	14. Crazy Train

**_A/N: There is some very strong language in this chapter. It's the reason the story ended up with the higher rating._ **

As if getting broken out of jail by his mortal enemy wasn't stressful enough, police cars barreled down the streets of St. Canard, their tires squealing as they took tight turns, their sirens screaming in protest. It wasn't helping that he and the police were all headed to the St. Canard docks; he couldn't just turn tail and slink off in the opposite direction. He had to be sneaky about it. Take streets and alleyways he was sure the police wouldn't wander down. Duck into stores and restaurants so they wouldn't see him.

Negaduck was grateful to see only  _police cars_  blazing down the streets and not hoards of ambulances. Because that meant the threat hadn't been contained. That the officials hadn't had to call for clean up services yet.

Which meant the fight was still going on.

And that proved that Gosalyn was still in the fray. That was mostly good: she hadn't been beaten. But it was also bad: she hadn't won.

But Negaduck wasn't worried. He  _wasn't_.

Upon arriving at the docks, with police cars lining the edges of the warehouses and fishing markets in their feeble attempt to create a perimeter, Negaduck knew he'd just missed the action.

Paddywhack, larger than life, was looming in the Bay. Some of the Negaverse villains bobbed in the waves around Paddywhack's ankles next to a swaying boat. The large demonic duck looked like a child in a bathtub, splashing around and laughing at the other villains as he created tidal waves and small whirlpools.

There was one person Negaduck didn't see, though. The one he'd expressly come looking for. He was, in part, relieved to not see her as one of Paddywhack's watery victims. But another part of him was starting to panic.

And there was no denying it now, this  _was_  panic clawing its way out of the pit of his stomach and creeping up into his chest.

Because if she wasn't  _here_ , then where was she? His eyes scanned the waters and picked up nothing close to flame red hair or purple cape. No quiver. No arrows soaring through the air as she tried to take down the villains

Trying to swallow his manic heart where it was choking him in his throat, Negaduck continued to scan the Bay. Because if he didn't see her, and if the villains were distracted by one another instead of by a hero, then she'd either escaped or been…

No. He didn't even want to think that.

But it had happened before. A few years ago with Quackerjack's toy teeth clamped down to her cape, dragging her down into the darkened depths of Audubon Bay. Negaduck had had the benefit of seeing where she'd fallen into the water last time. But now. Now that he had just come into the fray and hadn't seen the fight at all, he had no idea where she'd be. If she was under the water again — and oh,  _god_ , say that wasn't it — he had no parameters set. Audubon Bay stretched along all of St. Canard. He'd have to search all of it for one girl and there was no way he'd make it. Not this time. He'd be too late.

It wasn't until he caught sight of Gosalyn, swimming desperately for the shore that he realized he'd been breathing erratically, practically gasping in shallow breaths. Relief coursing through him, Negaduck worked on steadying his breathing as he watched her swim to safety towards a small embankment between the docks and the warehouses.

He briefly wondered what she was going through now, having been tossed around in the Bay that had given her PTSD, and a shaking gasping Gosalyn came to mind. The one that jolted awake from nightmares, eyes blown wide and roving around the room for anything to convince her she wasn't beneath the waves.

But now she was actually there. In the waves. And she'd probably gone beneath them.

The thought of her going into a panic attack spurred him into motion. He neatly navigated the back alleys around the warehouses and easily evaded the police perimeter. They were all distracted by the larger than life Paddywhack; they weren't going to concern themselves with little ol' Negaduck right now.

He managed to find a decent hiding place in between two warehouses and he hunkered down, eyes still trained on Gosalyn who had managed to crawl up onto land. If one of his cronies even  _looked_  in her direction…

His thoughts abruptly stopped when he noticed her trembling, arms digging into the mud as she army crawled up the bank. It didn't escape his notice that she jolted every time she put too much pressure on her right hip. How she wasn't using her left leg at all; it was just dragging behind her.

Negaduck and Gosalyn had been partners for a few years. He'd seen her get injured before. Hell, a few times, he'd been the  _reason_  she'd gotten injured. Each time she was hurt, no matter if she was just scratched or had only a small bruise, it left him feeling hollow. Empty. Helpless. So Negaduck, not having any interest in rationalizing what happened, or what he was  _feeling_ , always turned to violence to make sense of the world again.

And this time.

_This_  time he had targets for his malice.

_This time_  he was taking no prisoners.

Stiffening, he glanced over to Paddywhack and the other villains. A growl unleashed itself from somewhere deep in his throat and he grabbed for his book of matches and his canister of kerosene, both carefully tucked away in his cape. Gripping them both, he took one last look at Gosalyn before darting out of his hiding place and down the docks.

He didn't care about the police. He didn't care if he was told to stop, or shot at, or anything. This wasn't about  _him_.

Sprinting down the pier that was closest to Gosalyn, he came to a stop where he was more or less directly over her. He sprinkled kerosene in a circle around her, his anger growing when she didn't even realize it was happening. She was soaked through the feathers, not even noticing that liquid was falling around her. Curled up in the fetal position, Gosalyn's breathing was erratic.

Oh, those losers were going to  _pay_.

He bit back another growl, striking a match and carefully dropping it on the ring of kerosene, pleased when it immediately caught. A wall of flames roared to life around Gosalyn, effectively shielding her from any other prying eyes and sending out a clear message to any other villains in the vicinity. She was off limits.

Fire was Negaduck's signature. Ashes were the proof of his visit. Flames signaled his entry. And anyone stuck inside a ring of fire had been given a death sentence.

Except for Gosalyn. She was the exception to all of his rules. As she came down from the panic attack, Negaduck hoped she'd remember that fire, for her and for her only, meant safety.

The sudden flames also signaled the villains in the Bay.

Paddywhack glanced over with some interest, his grin growing at the idea of another disaster sucking the life out of St. Canard. But when he saw the precision of the blaze, how it was a perfect circle, his expression fell. The others, still splashing around in the water, yelling at one another, fell deathly silent. Liquidator's head materialized out of the Bay's waves and Negaduck didn't bother withholding the snarl that tore out of his beak with a vengeance. He stalked back down the pier, his hands balling into fists, fingers gripped tightly around his matches and his canister of kerosene.

The stillness, where there had previously been chaos, only fueled Negaduck's ire as he walked down the docks towards the small hoard of villains. He struck another match as he prowled down another pier, this one close to the pathetic little group.

Looking up at Paddywhack, Negaduck snarled, "I warned you.  _One_  unplanned death or crime and you can say goodbye to your box. But I'll settle for  _this,_ " Negaduck flicked the lit match up towards Paddywhack, "in the meantime."

The villain flinched when he saw the small flame flying towards his beak, Negaduck taking that reaction alone as a small victory. But he wasn't done there. Spraying kerosene up, Negaduck grinned maniacally when the liquid stained Paddywhack's black and white costume. It quickly ignited as the lit match fell and Paddywhack yelped, fanning the flames that had erupted on his chest. He shrank down to regular size, using the Bay's murky waters to douse the blaze.

Negaduck glanced around at the others still bobbing in the water, took in their terror-filled expressions, and felt some satisfaction. He was still the boss.

"On the boat," he barked.

"Technically, it's a  _yacht_ …" Quackerjack snapped his beak shut at Negaduck's dark look.

" _Now_ ," Negaduck growled.

It was a testament to how terrifying he was that each of them — including Paddywhack — scrambled towards the yacht without even a second of hesitation.

"How are we supposed ta… Get up dere?" Steelbeak asked, looking back towards Negaduck as he bobbed next to the yacht.

"You'd better figure something out," Negaduck said unhelpfully, fingering the book of matches. Steelbeak caught the action and began trying to scale the smooth painted wood, each attempt sending him splashing back under the waves.

"Paddywhack, you sent us into the Bay. You should get us out of it," Bushroot mentioned. Paddywhack whimpered, a hand coming up to gingerly trace his scalded chest. He would be of no help.

"There's a button… just…" Quackerjack felt on the underside of the yacht only to dive underneath the water. A second later, the yacht shrunk down to toy size as Quackerjack reemerged, shaking his head like a dog.

Negaduck rolled his eyes.  _Of course_  it was a  _toy_. He crossed his arms and heard Steelbeak hiss, "Nice goin'  _genius_."

"Just grab onto the side," Quackerjack said, his tone biting. Everyone did as Quackerjack instructed, but found it difficult for six adults to get a good grip on a toy boat. Quackerjack pushed the button again, the yacht reverting back to its larger size. All the villains scrambled for purchase as they were shot up into the air, flopping over onto the deck with complaints and grunts.

Negaduck watched calmly, which was impressive. Because he was  _seething_  inside. And by the way his minions were cowering on the yacht, trying to look presentable by squeezing out water from their costumes, straightening their posture, tucking their hands into pockets or behind their backs, they knew it.

He beckoned them over and, after some unsure glances, Quackerjack climbed up to the helm, steering the boat over to the pier. Everyone's faces lost more and more color the closer the yacht came; by the time Negaduck climbed aboard, the picture of composure, he was sure they could all pass as ghosts.

"I take it you've finished your  _fun_ ," he intoned.

"Dat was not my idea of fun," Steelbeak assured, looking back at Paddywhack with a dark expression. "My suit might as well be garbage now."

"Not everything is about clothes," Bushroot mentioned.

"You've clearly never owned a Quackmani." Steelbeak straightened his damp collar.

"Well, it doesn't matter now! We're all filthy!" Quackerjack interjected.

"Filth! Dirt!" Ammonia started running around the deck, searching for her cleaning supplies.

In her panic, she slipped on Liquidator who cried out, "Easy!"

Negaduck sighed and located one of the two remaining guns in his cape. Pulling it out, he caressed the metal until he got the quiet he was waiting for. It came faster than he'd thought. Probably because he was acting so calm; his inferiors were used to him raging.

The old Negaduck they could predict.

But new was dangerous. The unknown is always so much more terrifying. And right now, Negaduck was nothing but a big question mark for all of them.

Negaduck squared his shoulders and looked at each of the villains before him. "I trapped that pathetic excuse of a hero," he motioned to his ring of fire, "and will deal with her myself. Figure out what the hell is going on. And if any of you so much as  _breathe_  during my interrogation, I swear to all that's unholy I'll put a bullet in between your eyes before you can exhale. Is that clear?"

They looked at each other, waiting for someone to say something.

Negaduck sighed and cocked his gun.

"Is," he shot Bushroot in the shoulder. "That," he shot Steelbeak in the arm. "Fucking," he shot Ammonia in the foot. "Clear?" he shot Quackerjack in the leg.

Each of his victims collapsed to the deck with varying degrees of yelps and screams. Paddywhack and Liquidator both held up their hands in surrender. Like Negaduck was gonna shoot  _them_. He'd already lit Paddywhack on fire so he'd made his point there. And shooting Liquidator was a sign of insanity. Shooting at water? He might as well sign up for whatever asylum Quackerjack belonged in.

He took the moans and general fear as a sign of assent and he holstered his weapon. "Go detangle Megavolt from the power plant and get back to the Negaverse. Your little  _vacation_  is over."

With a dramatic swish of his cape that he was particularly proud of, Negaduck left his sorry excuses of lackeys behind.

Bushroot, however, stopped his dramatic exit. "We came… There was a voice," the half-plant, half-duck grunted. "The city is supposed to be ours for the taking!"

Negaduck stopped his progress and sighed, his shoulders moving up and down dramatically. "A voice?"

"On all the televisions and radios in the Negaverse," Liquidator confirmed.

A voice calling all the Negaverse villains to St. Canard prime to take over the city. That had Stellar's fingerprints all over it. It was definitely a big enough distraction for Stellar to slip away unnoticed. And it left the Negaverse empty and vulnerable. Stellar had been after the Negaverse since he'd lost control of it to his son all those years ago. And now he would probably take it back.

Or try to.

Negaduck turned on his heel, eyes flashing dangerously as he surveyed his minions-turned-doormats. Motioning towards the police blockade, he asked, "Does that look like any sort of easy takeover to you?"

The group exchanged glances, none of them willing to meet Negaduck's gaze.

The Masked Menace nodded as he slowly walked in front of his hoard of followers, ensuring his words were heard. "If I find out that you've disobeyed me again, and wandered off where I haven't sent you, you'll be going back to the Negaverse in body bags. Get out of my sight before I drown each of you in this Bay."

With another flip of the cape that he was less proud of than the first one, Negaduck jumped off the yacht, landing smoothly on the pier. He turned to watch the boat leave. But, when there was no movement forthcoming, he rolled his eyes and removed his gun. Checking the magazine, Negaduck reloaded, cocked, and aimed the barrel towards the sky. Firing off the remaining three rounds in quick succession, he took pleasure in watching the losers scramble around the deck, Liquidator taking the helm as the others nursed their injuries.

Glancing back towards his ring of fire, Negaduck jogged back down the pier and disappeared down an alley between two warehouses. Without drawing too much attention to himself, he climbed down to the banks of the Bay. Approaching the fire, which was starting to die down, he quickly loped around the circle, spilling the rest of his kerosene on the base of the blaze and watched as the flames grew once more.

Tossing the empty can aside, Negaduck straightened his suit, took a deep breath, and stepped through the fire to the other side.


	15. May I

**_A/N: Some more strong language in this chapter. Not as strong as the last chapter, but still. The warning is in place._ **

 

“They really did a number on you, didn’t they, kid?” 

He hated himself for how soft his voice came out. But it wasn’t a sign of _weakness_. He had sounded comforting on purpose so he wouldn’t freak Gosalyn out. She was clutching a knife and something else in her hands, seeming ready to use them both. He didn’t want to get knifed. Or have whatever-it-was thrown at him. That was the _only_ reason he’d sounded anything less than threatening; he was protecting himself. 

Yeah. 

Right. 

Relief washed over Gosalyn when she saw him, and she dropped the items in her hands. She just _dropped_ them. Didn’t pocket her weapons for later or even set them down carefully. It was as if the energy had leaked out of her and she didn’t have the strength to grip them anymore. 

Negaduck raised an eyebrow. Gosalyn just shook her head as she shrugged. Half-shrugged.

“I could do this all day,” she said, a smirk on her beak. 

A second later, she fell. 

Without even thinking, he dove forward, managing to catch her before she hit the ground. He paid no attention to how hard his knees smacked against the earth, sinking into the mud with a sickening suction sound. He’d pay for that later; he wasn’t as young as he used to be. But that didn’t matter now. 

Wrapping his arms around Gosalyn’s shoulders, he eased her down into a sitting position, eyes raking her face to see what was wrong. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her beak twisted down into a grimace, and her brows were knit. 

He was going to kill those sorry excuses of villains the next time he saw them. 

“Easy,” he said, setting her down gently. _Easy_? What was _that_? “What the hell happened?” Better. 

“Oh, I got cocky,” Gosalyn said dismissively. But he noticed how she gingerly moved her left leg, how she had to shift so she wasn’t putting weight on her right hip. 

“Well, that explains _everything_ ,” he groused. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong. It just hurts,” she said in a rush. Her eyes quickly darted up to his, as if to see if he’d caught on. If he had heard the pain and desperation in her tone. And his murderous thoughts must have been reflected in his expression because she dropped her gaze, embarrassed. “But it’s not a big deal. Nothing I can’t handle.” 

Negaduck didn’t say anything. Just moved so he was kneeling in front of her as he began to examine her leg. He eased the boot off her foot and picked up her discarded knife, cutting along the outer seam and peeling the fabric away. Using the lightest of touches, he straightened it out and turned it this way and that, looking for injury and carefully keeping an eye on Gosalyn’s face to see when it hurt the most. Because she clearly wasn’t going to tell him. 

_Bet she’d tell Darkwing_ , the voice in his head mentioned.

Well, maybe she would.

But Darkwing had come to _him_ for help. 

The back of her leg was more black than blue, the whole underside of her knee a huge bruise that was spreading up her thigh and down her calf, long black tendrils stretching over otherwise blemish-less feathers. The whole limb was swollen, especially at the knee, and no matter how careful he was, she kept wincing when he touched it. And it made him seethe. 

Had he mentioned how _dead_ those sons of bitches were?

Negaduck exhaled heavily and stood, scrounging around for anything to make a splint out of. His ring of fire was dying down, the flames small compared to the roaring inferno from before; he was able to step over them easily, his eyes roving the ground for anything that might be of use.

The nearby welding warehouse was where he had the most luck in his search, locating a decently sized steel rod. He lost no time in returning to Gosalyn, jumping over the small flames and kneeling next to her once again. 

“This will probably hurt,” he mentioned, sizing up the rod beside her leg. A little short, but it would have to do. He set it beside her and glanced up to check on her. He froze. 

Gosalyn was watching him, her face waxen with her bangs plastered along her forehead, the red strands hanging down in front of her eyes. 

He didn't know if it was the water still dripping down her feathers or if it was the exhausted desperation in her gaze, but he reached forward and swept her bangs away, tucking them behind her ear. He brought a corner of his cape forward and began to dry off her face. 

“Always the water, huh, kid?” he asked. She lifted her head to glance at him, her eyes holding a dazed look that set him on edge. It was probably for the best that he had missed the action. The Bay would have been dangerously contaminated with all the blood spilled if he’d been present. 

Speaking of… 

Negaduck growled, “Is that _blood_?” 

It was. He knew it was. Dried against her feathers, but there all the same. A small trickle of it in a neat line. 

Forget what he said before. Those sons of bitches weren’t dead. Oh, no. They would be tortured. Long, painful, excruciating. He’d _personally_ see to that. 

Thin mud-covered fingers gently swept across his cheek, effectively yanking him out of his thoughts. He reeled back as if Gosalyn had slapped him instead of caressed him, his eyes wide as they met hers. 

“I’m fine,” she said soothingly, her clever green irises — now, thankfully, clear — carefully perusing his face. 

“Like _hell_ you are,” he seethed, returning to the task at hand: her leg. Taking a firmer grip on his now damp cape, he tore off the end and ripped that part in two. He draped the strips of fabric over her thigh and her calf. 

“This is the part that’s gonna hurt, right?” she asked, her tone light even though her voice shook. 

“Yeah,” Negaduck acknowledged. He was loathe to cause her more pain, especially after having gone through another bout of torture with water, but she needed to keep her leg straight until it could be examined by a doctor. To risk anything else happening to it would be worse. 

“Just, uh… Lie still.” He glanced at her again and she sent him a little nod of encouragement, her beak turning up in a smile. Damn it, if she didn’t make him proud. 

Pressing the metal rod along her feathers, he grabbed the strip of fabric draped over her thigh and secured the steel to her leg tightly. Gosalyn inhaled sharply and he tried to ignore how his chest seized painfully at the sound. Instead, he concentrated on knotting the fabric above the knee. He moved down and did the same to her calf, hating himself for how badly his hands were shaking. 

As her leg was forced straight, Gosalyn slumped into him, long shuddering breaths puffing against his neck. It took everything in him to not leap away from her it startled him so badly. But he managed to hold still as he wondered what he was supposed to do now.

This wasn’t something he had experience in: comfort. Neither giving nor receiving. If there was a handbook on how to comfort someone, Negaduck would be the section of “Do Nots”. 

He breathed deeply as Gosalyn scooted towards him. Just sat there as she fingered the buttons on his suit. Wondered what anyone else would do if she laid her head on their shoulder. His brain just stuttered to a halt, making him completely useless.

But _that_ feeling was one he’d grown accustomed to over the years and he quickly worked on gaining the upper hand. 

Remembering the cut on her neck, he reached up and pushed Gosalyn away. He knew her small whimper as she was separated from his body heat would forever be seared into his brain. But he focused on searching for the injury, gently began to sift through the feathers at her neck. 

“It’s nothing,” she said, her voice tired. “Just a little nick.” 

She was right. It was just a small thin cut that already looked as though it was clotting, the blood around it dried on her skin. 

“Quackerjack?” he asked, using process of elimination to narrow down who would have the gall to press a sharp weapon to Gosalyn’s throat. 

“He’s not my biggest fan,” Gosalyn said, smiling weakly up at Negaduck. 

He scoffed, using his damp cape to clean up the wound. Which was another mistake; his wet cape soaked in Bay water was not what she needed now. If only he carried alcohol. Or antiseptic. Neither of which he’d ever have at hand because why would he? Antiseptic would send out the wrong message: I’m gonna shoot you in the foot, but here’s some antibacterial cream to go with that. And alcohol… He’d never been able to touch the stuff. Not with Stellar having been the raging alcoholic Negaduck had grown up with. Not even in his deepest depressions had Negaduck ever reached for a bottle. The smell alone was enough to— 

“I, uh, think you got it,” Gosalyn said, her soft words breaking through his memories and he blinked at her. She was watching him carefully, her brow furrowed as she watched him. Like he was the one who was hurt, not her. 

He nodded, leaning back. Not knowing what to do with his hands, he let them flop into his lap. “You’ll need to have Darkwing take you to, um, a doctor or something. Your leg will need an X-Ray and you’ll want to make sure you didn’t get any infections from the water.” 

“Yes, Dr. Negaduck, sir,” Gosalyn joked. 

“This is serious, Gosalyn!” Negaduck snapped, eyes flashing.

“I wasn’t…” 

“You could’ve… Those villains out there weren’t going to stop until they… You’re a big target. What the _hell_ were you thinking when you went to fight them by _yourself_?” 

“I was thinking that since I’d worked with you that I could scare them into going back to the Negaverse, but…” 

Negaduck sighed. “They aren’t interested in _talking_. No wonder you were so easily beaten out there!” 

“Hey!” Gosalyn came to life, a fire sparking in her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I was doing just fine until Paddywhack decided to flip the stupid yacht over!”

Flip the—? Negaduck closed his eyes, balling his hands into fists as he ground his teeth together. That demon clown was gonna get chained in that damn box and Negaduck was gonna drop it from the top of a cliff. After setting it on fire. And pelting it with bullets. 

“You _never_ ,” he growled after taking a few calming breaths, “go into a fight without sizing up the playing field. How many times have I said that? Do you pay attention to _anything_? Or are you too busy making _stupid_ _impulsive_ _decisions_?” 

“Okay, back up!” Gosalyn snapped. “Just because I didn’t see Paddywhack until it was too late does not mean I don’t listen to you. The only reason I was able to survive for so long, was because of what you’d taught me, so don’t you _dare_ say that I don’t pay attention…” 

“You could have fooled me,” Negaduck sneered. 

“I wasn’t,” Gosalyn said, her tone icy, “finished. You can say whatever you want about my fighting style, how I make decisions out on the field, whatever, but you don’t get to call me _stupid_.” 

“What else _can_ I do, Gosalyn?!” Negaduck jumped up, pacing the width of the fire ring, which was little more than embers at this point. “No matter what I do, you’re always throwing yourself into danger, getting into fights, and blatantly ignoring your own safety for idiotic reasons and grandiose acts of heroism that would make even Darkwing pause. Your recklessness will get you killed one day and I _refuse…_ ” he growled, scrubbing at his face. “I can’t do this.” 

Gosalyn watched him for a moment, anger still lining her frown, but her eyes a shade softer. “Are you saying we shouldn’t work together anymore?” 

“Yes!” he roared, removing his fedora and running a hand through his feathers. That wasn’t what he wanted to do. Not at all. The mere thought of removing Gosalyn from his life was enough to steal the breath from him. But if it meant her safety…

“So this is it?” Gosalyn asked, rolling and pulling herself up to a standing position. Negaduck moved to help her, but she waved him away, balancing precariously on her one good foot. “You getting tired of saving me or something?” 

“I _hate_ saving you,” he sneered. And Gosalyn’s expression of shocked sorrow just about broke his heart in two. “I hate that you get into situations that make me swoop down at the last second and drag you out of danger all battered and bruised.” He waved to her bad leg and the makeshift splint he’d MacGivered together. “You clearly don’t know what you’re doing. And one day, you’ll get yourself into something no one can save you from. And I won’t… I _can’t_ …” 

Before he could vocalize those words that were echoing around his head — _I won’t see you killed. I_ can’t _see you killed_ — Gosalyn closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. 

He tensed immediately, dropping his fedora onto the ground, the scarlet staining once it hit the mud. Should he run? Should he detangle her from around him and back away? Should he just stand there until she released him and _then_ run? 

Because one thing was for sure: he couldn’t return her hug.

He was Negaduck. He was the Lord of the Negaverse. Public Enemy #1. The Masked Menace. Darkwing Duck’s arch nemesis and the biggest baddest villain of them all. 

He was _not_ filled with warmth as some girl tightened her grip around his waist. He wasn’t about to burst from the whatever-it-was expanding in his chest as she tucked her head under his beak. He _definitely_ _wasn’t_ falling to pieces by the simple actions of his rival’s daughter.

“You won’t watch me die,” she mentioned, her voice clear. “I’m gonna be fine.” 

Negaduck cleared his throat. He opened his beak to say something in response, but he had no idea what it would be. His brain had just stopped functioning. “I don’t know how much blood would be shed or how much destruction I’d rain down if it _did_ happen…” 

“You won’t ever have to know.” Gosalyn fully leaned against him. Trusting him to hold her up. 

And _that’s_ what got him. 

Even after he’d ranted and raved and basically told her they couldn’t work together anymore, Gosalyn still trusted him. Still liked him enough to fight for him. To assure him she wanted to stick around anyway. 

She wasn’t misled by his anger. Didn’t let his words sting. Instead, she heard what he wasn’t saying. That he couldn’t watch her die. That he didn’t want to see her in dangerous situations. That he hated seeing her hurt. Because — dare he even _think_ it? — he loved her. 

Gosalyn always heard what was left unsaid. And she still wanted to work with him. Still wanted _him_. 

And damn it all, if that didn’t just _break_ him. 

Very tentatively, with his heart beating so hard against his chest it was painful, Negaduck wrapped his arms around Gosalyn. He struggled for half a second with his hands, unsure of where to let them rest. In the end, he settled for curving one around her shoulders and the other around her lower back.

Was he doing this right? He couldn’t be sure. He’d never… 

But Gosalyn sighed happily, snuggling into his chest as her arms tightened around his waist. Bolstered, but feeling no less nervous, Negaduck pulled her a little closer, dropping his head to rest his cheek on top of her head. 

And this. 

This was all right. 

The steady weight of her against his chest. The warmth of her arms around his waist. He dropped his eyes closed, trying to memorize the exact feeling of her there in his embrace. What he was feeling. How she’d managed to compact herself perfectly to fit there. 

And how he somehow _knew_ that this was where she was safe. 

He could breathe again.

She was here. 

With him.

Nothing would happen to her here. 

Nothing would happen to _him_ here. 

They, somehow, had each other.

“I think I might be sick,” said a voice that took all of the warmth and security and — he was still reeling over this one — love that had settled on him. 

Negaduck was about to leap back, jump away and run as far and as fast as he could. But the feeling of Gosalyn tensing up beneath him, the way her head whipped around and her arms clung to him tighter made him do the exact opposite. 

With a snarl, Negaduck drew Gosalyn tighter against him, because she was still safe here. If he let her go, then she’d be in trouble.

One of his hands came up to tuck her head back to his chest, as he turned to face the newcomer. 

Stellar looked as though Christmas had come early; the way the glee bounced around his thin haunting face set Negaduck’s teeth on edge. But he didn’t say anything. Refused to take Stellar’s bait. Just waited as he tried to shield Gosalyn. 

Stellar just grinned, his teeth a little too white against his greying feathers. “Have I mentioned, my dear,” he said, setting his dead grey eyes on Gosalyn, “how remarkably alike you and Christine look?” 

Gosalyn shuddered and rage boiled up in Negaduck’s stomach along with a surge of protectiveness that left him dizzy. All he was aware of — the one thing he knew with absolute certainty — was that there was _no way_ Stellar was getting his filthy hands on Gosalyn. 

“It’s very funny, isn’t it, Drakey? Now, you stop me if I’m wrong,” Stellar said, a look of pleasure skidding across his face as he looked up to Negaduck. “I’ve found out that this young lady,” he motioned to Gosalyn, “is the daughter of Darkwing Duck. And, since that do-gooder is your sickeningly righteous double in this universe, that leads me to believe that Christine is the Negaverse version of Gosalyn here. All check out so far?”

Negaduck continued his silent vigil, eyes watching Stellar as the old man walked closer to them. He’d never been so calm when facing his father before. There was no panic blossoming in his gut, no instinct screaming at him to run. The solid form of Gosalyn in his arms centered him. She always had put everything in perspective. She was… Well, she was his _everything_. And it was a damn shame it had taken him so long to admit it. 

“How interesting that you chose this little carrot top when you had a rugrat of your own back in the Negaverse.” Stellar taunted. He held up a pacifying hand when Negaduck released a growl, saying, “Please. Even I can see why you’d prefer this version. Christine is agonizingly slow and doesn’t stand up for herself. Nowhere near as … _spirited_ as this version.

“But the most interesting part of all of this is that she is the daughter of your greatest adversary! The one thing you care about in all the world — possibly in any universe — is _this_ girl.” Stellar laughed, a hard hollow sound.

Negaduck’s breath caught in his throat. He’d just declared, practically to the whole world, that Gosalyn was his greatest weakness. The one thing he cared about, as Stellar had so eloquently put it. 

By loving her — because he did, he could hardly deny it now — he’d put her at a greater risk. He’d be hard pressed to find a moment when he hated himself more than this one now. 

“I did warn you, didn’t I, Drakey, that if you managed to escape the prison that I’d be forced to kill you.” Stellar pulled out a gun from his coat and examined the magazine. “But now, I think I’ll just kill her instead.” Snapping the magazine shut, Stellar cocked the pistol. 

Ice dumped into Negaduck’s veins at the thought, a coldness he had never felt coursing through him until it left him raw. He couldn’t _lose_ her.

And Gosalyn — strong, hopelessly self-sacrificing Gosalyn — just scoffed at Stellar, biting out, “I’d like to see you try.” 

“I assure you, my dear, I am quite the sharp shooter.” He pointed the gun at Gosalyn, eyes trained expertly down the barrel of the gun. 

Seeing the weapon pointed at Gosalyn awakened something in Negaduck and, with a fierce scowl, he untangled himself from her, pushing Gosalyn behind him as he turned to square off with Stellar. 

“Oh, Drakey,” Stellar sighed, disappointment painted on his face, and dropped the gun to his side. “How pedestrian.” 

“Negaduck…” Gosalyn warned, but he wasn’t listening. Digging through his pockets, Negaduck searched for any weapon — anything at all — with which he could fight his father.

His matches were gone; cast aside and lost at this point.

He’d used all his kerosene. 

The dynamite would have been no use to him in the long run, and it was back in the jail besides. 

There was still a Glock in one pocket. 

He reached for it but his fingers brushed over… 

That was it. 

Stellar would never see it coming. He wouldn’t be able to fight against it. And what better way to make sure Gosalyn stayed safe? She’d be able to live without the constant threat of Negaduck’s father always breathing down her neck. Because Stellar would never leave Gosalyn alone. Not now that he knew she was so important to Negaduck. He’d hunt her, kidnap her, injure her, kill her, just to get back at his son and Negaduck would rather die than see that happen. 

Well, then. 

He caressed the plastic casing surrounding the red Oblivion button. How had he once described it? A one way ticket to that universe? 

He couldn’t waste this. 

Whirling around to face Gosalyn, he took her by the shoulders. She was so startled that she looked up at him immediately and he held her gaze, ensuring his words were heard. 

“Paddywhack has a box that he lives in. It’s his weakness; that’s how you’ll control him. Most villains are like Ammonia, Steelbeak and Liquidator: they’re opportunists and if you have even a small prize for them, they’ll fight for you instead of against you. Just make sure what you have to offer is more impressive than what the enemy can hope to give.” 

“What are you—?” Gosalyn asked, her brow knit in confusion.

A loud crack cut through the silence as a bullet landed in the mud mere inches from Negaduck’s feet. Gosalyn started and glanced down. Reaching forward, Negaduck cupped Gosalyn’s face in his hands, dragging her gaze from the ground back up to meet his eyes. 

“Quackerjack will listen to anything you have to say if you threaten his toys. And if you compliment them then he’ll be your biggest ally. Bushroot and Megavolt are pushovers; you give them some attention, make it seem like you’re interested in their craziness, and they’ll follow you forever.” 

Another shot was fired, this bullet tearing a hole in Negaduck’s cape. It sailed past him and Gosalyn, the steel burying itself in the water lapping at the shore. 

“Enough of the heroics, Drakey. You knew this was coming,” Stellar bit out.

Gosalyn was still looking at Negaduck, the green of her irises all that he could see and all he cared about. Tears started to brim in her eyes, clouding the clear emerald. “Why are you saying goodbye?” she whispered. 

“I finally have something to fight for,” Negaduck quickly explained, releasing the smile he always held back. A real honest-to-badness smile that showed all his pride and devotion. For her. 

And for some reason, it made tears start to fall down Gosalyn’s cheeks. He brushed them away with his thumbs as she begged, “Please, Negaduck. Don’t—” 

Another shot, this one flying next to Gosalyn’s cheek. 

Oh, _that_ did it. 

Negaduck leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Gosalyn’s. “Give ‘em hell, baby girl.” 

And just as quickly as he’d whirled to face Gosalyn, he stepped away from her and turned back to face Stellar, pulling out his Glock in one hand and the Oblivion button in the other. 

“Negaduck, please,” Gosalyn pleaded, her fingers grabbing ahold of his cape. 

But he ran forward, firing his Glock at Stellar. The older duck managed to dodge the bullet, but it had bought Negaduck enough time. 

He barreled into Stellar, the two tumbling to the ground in a heap as he flicked open the plastic casing and pushed the button. 

As light pooled around them, sucking them down into a cacophony of color and noise, the last thing Negaduck heard was Gosalyn screaming his name. 

 

 

**_A/N: If anyone is interested, I’ve put together a playlist called “Baby Girl” that I listened to while I wrote this chapter and posted it on[my blog](http://rebellingstagnationblog.tumblr.com/post/149386295444/the-playlist-i-listened-to-as-i-wrote-this)._**

**_~RS_ **


	16. After The Storm

The most unsettling part of the whole thing was the silence.

He knew that Gosalyn withdrew when something deeply affected her. But this was a whole new level.

From the moment Darkwing and Launchpad had touched down in the Thunderquack, Gosalyn hadn't just been quiet and complacent, but dazed. Distracted. Like she was stuck in a dream.

Or a nightmare.

Not any nightmare that Darkwing would ever have; any universe where Negaduck was gone was the best kind of dream. Everything Darkwing had been fighting for.

But for Gosalyn…

Yeah.

A nightmare.

Darkwing had approached Gosalyn carefully, stepping over the charred remains of what looked to have been a ring of fire. She sat in the middle of it, one of her legs swollen larger than the other, forced straight out in front of her with a steel rod tied to it. The other limb was crumpled underneath her as she clutched Negaduck's red fedora to her chest.

Darkwing had called her name at least five times. No response.

So, he'd crouched in front of her, gently swept her bangs out of her eyes (she really needed a haircut). Called her name again.

She'd jumped as if his touch had scalded her, vacant eyes focusing on him as her muscles tensed. Darkwing had held up his hands in surrender, talking to her in a soothing tone. All the while he'd kept his eyes trained on hers, every fiber of his being screaming that something was wrong.

After taking stock of her surroundings, Gosalyn had reached for him, borrowing his strength to pull herself to a standing position.

"I… um. … I have to go to the hospital. My leg… and my hip…" Her voice had sounded so far away. Her fingers clutched Negaduck's discarded hat like a lifeline, her other hand gripping Darkwing's arm so hard as she stood that he had lost circulation.

And Darkwing hadn't cared that there could still be villains in the area or that the entire St. Canard police force surrounded them on the banks of the Bay.

Because  _Gosalyn_.

Without a word, he had guided her back to the Thunderquack. He'd never been as grateful as he was then for Launchpad's superior height and strength; the pilot had been able to easily lift Gosalyn inside the plane. He'd looked back to Darkwing, worry tinging his gaze, but Darkwing had shaken his head. It had not been the time for questions.

Launchpad had flown to the hospital as Darkwing took the seat next to Gosalyn, wrapping her in his arms. She allowed him to hold her but she didn't reciprocate. She'd been little more than dead weight against his side.

As they had soared over the city, Darkwing had reached up, tucked a strand of Gosalyn's hair behind her ear and had gently asked, "Where's Negaduck?"

He and Launchpad had heard Gosalyn swallow as her fingers shifted on the scarlet fedora.

"I… I don't know," she confessed, her words barely a whisper but loud enough in their silent compartment.

Nothing else was said between the three.

After a few hours at the hospital, Gosalyn was wheeled out in a wheelchair with the diagnosis of a bruised bone and instructions to "take it easy." Darkwing had wanted to keep her there longer than the doctors thought necessary, wanting to see if some type of shock would set in. If a disease from being in the Bay's cold waters would rear up. But the doctors thought going home would be better medicine for her. Gosalyn was withdrawn and quiet, refusing to release Negaduck's hat, but was physically fine. There was no reason they could see to keep her overnight. She had even asked to go home, more than once, which was the best sign.

Well.

Darkwing could deny her nothing.

With detailed instructions from the medical staff on how to care for her and a promise to bring her back if anything went south in the next few days, he had loaded up his daughter into the Thunderquack and flew back to Darkwing Tower.

So, here they were, slowly easing Gosalyn across the Tower. Launchpad leapt out of the Thunderquack and dug through their medical kits until he found a knee brace that Gosalyn could use over the coming weeks and months as she healed. Darkwing guided Gosalyn — she vehemently refused to use Darkwing's wheelchair — to the armchairs that would spin her back home, quietly instructing her to take it slow. To watch out for the uneven ground. And all the while, he was on edge with how quiet his daughter was.

He was desperate to know what had happened, but Gosalyn would eventually tell him. Forcing it out of her would be useless. And, truth be told, he was afraid of what would happen if he pushed Gosalyn farther than she was ready to go.

"Thank goodness!" echoed a familiar voice.

Darkwing looked up and found Christine climbing down the ladder from the kitchen and hurrying over to them. Had she stayed up there the whole time? It had been  _hours_ …

He didn't know why, but Darkwing tightened his grip on his Gosalyn. He nodded at Christine as they continued past her.

"I was getting so worried! Are you all right?" Christine asked, keeping pace with the group and looking at Gosalyn.

To her credit, Gosalyn didn't roll her eyes. Or scowl. She just glanced at Christine with some mild derision as she limped over to the armchairs.

"What happened?" Christine pressed.

"We don't know," Launchpad offered softly, coming to the other side of Gosalyn and eyeing her, ready to step in and offer support.

"Did the villains go back to the Negaverse?" Christine's gaze shifting from duck to duck as they answered, or didn't answer, her questions.

"Seems so," Darkwing offered, his tone clipped. He didn't want to have this conversation. Not now. Maybe in a day or two. After Gosalyn had gotten some rest. When the alarm bells in his head quieted down, assuring him that his daughter was  _safe_.

"What about Negaduck?"

Gosalyn stopped walking, causing Darkwing and Launchpad to halt beside her.

Christine cleared her throat and pressed further. "What happened to him?"

"We, uh, we don't know," Launchpad said, hands coming up to brace Gosalyn. Darkwing's gaze was glued to Gosalyn's face, searching for any sort of pain. And it wasn't hard to see, which was the most disturbing thing of all. Sure,  _Darkwing_  was always able to read Gosalyn like an open book, but right now,  _anyone_  could. Worry clawed at his chest.

"Did he… give you his hat?" Christine wondered, pointing to the scarlet fedora still clutched in Gosalyn's grasp.

"Yeah," Gosalyn bit out, sending a glare to Christine. "He gave it to me right before he sent himself and Stellar to another universe. You know, for safekeeping."

Darkwing and Launchpad exchanged surprised glances over Gosalyn's head. They both had a thousand questions, each one passing between them in the subtle changes in their expressions, but they both turned back to Gosalyn without voicing anything.

Because one thing was apparent that explained Gosalyn's behavior so perfectly that Darkwing felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.

The way she refused to let go of Negaduck's hat.

How she wouldn't talk about the villainous mallard.

Avoiding eye contact and answering questions quickly and quietly.

Gosalyn had lost someone else.

She'd never said, but Darkwing knew loss was Gosalyn's greatest fear. To have someone else she cared about slip away from her before she was ready to say goodbye. To be left alone. Again. One little girl in the shadow of love, abandoned, forced to face the world by herself.

First it had been her parents.

Then her grandfather.

Darkwing had very nearly left her a few times. Not intentionally; it was just the nature of being a crime fighter.

Launchpad, too, had almost been taken away too soon on a few cases.

But now…. It was Negaduck.

And all Gosalyn had left of him was a muddy, stained red hat.

Darkwing was already planning his conversation with J. Gander to move the debriefing back a few weeks. Give Gosalyn time to distance herself. And give Darkwing time to fix what he could. He was sure Launchpad was planning on hitting up the grocery store tonight and would buy Gosalyn's favorite foods so he could make her dinner. Food was how Launchpad fixed things.

Christine filled the silence with, "Is… is he coming back?"

Gosalyn loosed a bark of laughter that was half a sob. "He didn't give me his itinerary before he flung himself at Stellar and pushed that stupid red button he kept in his jacket."

There was a beat of silence before Christine whispered, "He sacrificed himself for  _you_?"

Something in Christine's tone caused both Darkwing and Launchpad to turn to her, the former growling deep in his throat and the latter saying, "Hey, now."

"I just…" Christine's brow furrowed. "It's  _Negaduck_. He doesn't sacrifice himself for anyone. Least of all—"

"Watch it," Darkwing snapped.

Gosalyn scoffed at Christine. "Shows how much you know."

Christine threw her hands up into the air, at a loss of what else to do. "I don't… I just don't understand it! I was Negaduck's Gosalyn.  _Me_! Not  _you_! Why wouldn't he sacrifice himself for his own Gosalyn?"

Darkwing was about to let Christine know  _exactly_  why when Gosalyn cut in with, "Did you even try to have a relationship with Negaduck?"

Christine's eyes grew rounder as she nodded emphatically. "I did! I really did. I didn't want anything else when I was younger."

"Really?" Gosalyn challenged. "Because it looks an awful lot like you gave up."

Christine blinked as she stumbled back a step. " _I_  didn't—  _He_  gave up! He never—"

" _You_  left!" Gosalyn said. "Relationships are two sided. You can't expect Negaduck to love you just because you're you."

Christine shook her head, still confused. "But… He loved  _you_  because  _you're you_."

Gosalyn gazed at Christine for a few moments in silence, Darkwing and Launchpad bracketing her on either side to hold her steady. Eventually, she shrugged. "I let him love me exactly as he was. You waited for his love with a list of demands in hand."

That said, Gosalyn started walking towards the armchairs again, Darkwing and Launchpad following. Darkwing settled Gosalyn into an armchair as Launchpad took the other. Nodding to his sidekick when Gosalyn was as ready as she could be, Launchpad hit the statue to take them home.

Turning back to a still confused Christine as the chairs spun, Darkwing said, "I would call J. Gander as soon as possible if I were you. I'm sure he would be glad to give you a place to stay for the night."

She blinked up at him. "You won't let me stay here?"

Darkwing shook his head. "Launchpad and I are going to be at home all night. You need someone to protect you from any other villains who might want to get their revenge."

She smiled weakly. "With Negaduck gone, I doubt anyone will have any interest in me."

Darkwing studied her for a moment. What had he been thinking about Gosalyn fearing being alone? Because Christine might very well fear the same thing. "Maybe not the villains," he offered. "But you still have the Friendly Four. I'm sure they're waiting for you back in the Negaverse."

She nodded, her hands wringing one another. Darkwing reached forward and took them in his own. He wasn't able to help himself when it came to this girl; even when his own daughter needed him so badly it was like a magnet pulling him toward her, he still had to make sure Christine was going to be okay.

Christine glanced up at him and listened carefully as he said, "With Negaduck gone, someone will become the new top dog of the Negaverse. You need to get back there if you want to make sure it's you." Darkwing nodded to her and walked back towards the armchairs, settling into his usual seat.

"Darkwing!" she called. He glanced up to see her still squeezing her hands, watching him with wide eyes and panic deep in her pupils.

"Negaduck… he loved another Gosalyn. A Gosalyn who wasn't his. And I'm… I'm a Gosalyn, too. Is there any room for me…? What I mean is…" She sighed. "Should I even think that you could love me like you do your own Gosalyn?"

Darkwing looked at her, sadness tinging his gaze. "You should give J. Gander a call. I'm sure he'd help you get back to the Negaverse safely."

She inhaled sharply and nodded, her eyes dropping to the floor as she folded her hands in front of her, her fingers finally still.

"I am sorry, Christine." With that, Darkwing hit the statue and spun back home.

By the time he arrived, Launchpad had already managed to get Gosalyn upstairs. Darkwing hurried after them, relieved beyond words to see  _his_  Gosalyn climbing into bed. She winced as she settled into the mattress, waving Launchpad away when he offered a hand.

Darkwing couldn't help smiling, even if the sight of Gosalyn injured made his heart thunder heavily in his chest. His daughter, even when hurt after a caper, was so full of spirit and vigor. She was still herself. She was still fighting. He couldn't be prouder.

"Thanks, Launchpad." Gosalyn looked up to the pilot and patted his arm.

"You all right, Gos? I can run to the store and…"

"No, no. Really, I'm fine." Launchpad continued to hover until Gosalyn sent him a smile, which he returned before walking out of her room.

He stopped in the doorway beside Darkwing. "I'll be downstairs if ya need me." He sent one more smile to Gosalyn and clapped Darkwing on the shoulder before descending the stairs.

Darkwing hovered only for a second longer in the doorway before walking up next to Gosalyn's bed. He leaned over and tugged her blankets free, which didn't take much effort; she never made her bed. Slowly, he began peeling her costume off, piling the material on the floor with her other dirty clothes.

When he reached for Negaduck's hat, she pulled it up to her chest and sent him a warning look.

"Gos," he said, his voice soft. "You have to let go."

She glanced down at the hat and sighed before handing it over. Darkwing took it, studying it for only a moment before he hung the fedora on the bedpost near Gosalyn's head. He walked to her dresser, pulling drawers open and digging out her pajamas. Tossing them over to her, he walked down the hall to his bedroom to change out of his own costume and give her some privacy. He ended up hovering in the hall jut outside her door, changed and waiting for some sort of all clear.

He found it hard to believe that Negaduck was truly gone. The villain had come back from so many seemingly impossible circumstances that Darkwing was hesitant in saying that he was gone for good.

But Gosalyn's reaction was enough to send that theory packing. How she'd been slouched in the mud, clinging to Negaduck's hat, a distant look on her still face. He shuddered. That image would be following him into his nightmares tonight. And for a few weeks.

"Daddy."

If nothing else had set him on edge, then  _that_  would have. That wrecked hopeless tone. The use of "daddy" which Gosalyn only reserved for those moments when she needed him more than anything but didn't know how to say it.

Darkwing entered her room — she'd managed to change into her pajamas and settle under the blankets — and immediately sat beside her, his fingers weaving through her hair. He watched her carefully, not saying anything, but giving her everything she'd asked for: himself.

Gosalyn didn't say anything. Just let the silence linger. She leaned against Darkwing, closing her eyes as his fingers gently stroked her hair.

After a few minutes of silence, she cleared her throat. "I-I think I have PTSD. From the… the Bay, and… sometimes I have nightmares and I can't… There are nights when I can't sleep. Like, at all."

A thousand questions ran through Darkwing's mind.  _How long have you had this? Why didn't you tell me sooner? Why did you keep this from me? Why did you_  insist _on going fight all those villains on the water_  by yourself _? Does Launchpad know? Did Negaduck know? Why didn't you come to_  me _?_

He didn't ask any of them. Because Gosalyn was telling him now. The before didn't matter.

And so he stretched his legs out in front of him and settled back against Gosalyn's headboard. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he gently pulled her into his embrace, tucking her head onto his chest. And, all the while, his fingers ran through her long fiery locks.

She all but melted against him, her arms wrapping around his waist as she buried her face into his shirt. Her shoulders shook like she was crying, but Darkwing knew she wasn't. Maybe she wanted to, and maybe later tonight she'd actually let herself shed some tears. But in the meantime, she trembled with the pent up emotions, fighting to keep them down but all the while wanting to let them go.

Darkwing wouldn't force her. He never did. She always came around on her own.

"What's gonna happen?" she asked, her voice small and muffled against his chest. "I won't be able to sleep tonight. I won't… I can't…"

"Shh," Darkwing soothed, rubbing circles on her back as his fingers stroked her hair. "I'll be here. I won't leave, Gos. I promise." He pressed a light kiss into her hair and tightened his hold on her.

Gosalyn sighed, collapsing against him fully. She burrowed her head into his chest, one of her hands fisting the material of his pajamas. Like she needed to hang onto him to believe he was there.

He'd let her.

And in the morning, he was sure they'd wake up to the warm homey smell of Launchpad's famous pancakes. 


	17. Aeon

The Negaverse had never been a welcoming place. If anything, the unkept city with its crumbling buildings, deteriorating roadways, and smoggy skyline was a big "Keep Out" sign if ever he'd seen one.

But this.

Here.

These winding alleys lined back to back with graffiti murals. Streams of color that blended together to show the history of the Negaverse.

It rivaled his own St. Canard in beauty.

The first wall of murals depicted the mafia of the Negaverse many years ago. Stellar and a mob boss by the name of Big Leon were the largest painted figures in these as they ruled from Capital Hill and the dark recesses of the streets alike. These were darkly painted with dull colors and conniving expressions. Darkwing expected this trend to continue, but the next turn of the alley showed a different tale.

The red of Negaduck's fedora stained the brilliant yellows and whites of an explosion. His black cape blended with the night, flapping against the stars as he stood on the Negaverse's Audubon Bay Bridge, his St. Canard exploding below him. If the caption of, "Negaverse's new ruler" was anything to go by, this had to have been the night Negaduck rose to power.

After that mural, the colors were more vibrant. The action more violent. The expressions more open. Gone was the clandestine manipulative rule of the mafia. Here was Negaduck's explosive reign. St. Canard was consumed by fire, citizens fled from the flames. The costumed villain's weapons grew larger and his face darker as the city fell.

Darkwing had never stopped to consider that the Negaverse had once been a thriving town. A metropolis to rival his own.

But then, why shouldn't it have been?

The universes were the same, affected by the choices of the citizens who lived in them. And it would seem that Negaduck had held the deciding vote for this one.

It was during this stretch of blocks — detailing Negaduck's burning kingdom — when Darkwing despaired over the Negaverse ever regaining its footing.

But Christine was determined, bless her.

Darkwing had stopped by the Negaverse on her invitation, to see what she and the Friendly Four had started working on.

So he'd come.

And everything was the same.

He didn't know why he'd expected the Negaverse to be different just because its leader was gone, but he did. And the fact that nothing had changed was the creepiest thing he'd ever come across.

Because Negaduck had made his mark so permanently. He was felt in the potholes the size of commercial jets, the gated storefronts, the overturned semi trucks and rusting hoards of abandoned cars.

Except it was quiet now.

Eerily so.

A stillness had settled over the metropolis like a layer of dust. A ghost town boasting only of what once had been. A mangled ravaged landscape now turning into a neglected vacant one. If anyone remained in the city, they stayed indoors, plywood boarding up broken windows and cracked doorways.

But Darkwing suspected that not many people remained in the city. Not in the main metropolis at any rate. Without their feared leader to keep everything just on the brink of disaster, what was the point?

Most of the villains had moved on. Returning to St. Canard Prime or venturing out to Duckburg and what cities lay beyond. S.H.U.S.H. was busier than ever, trying to keep track of the mass exodus pouring out of one universe and into another.

And Christine was helping.

Partnered with S.H.U.S.H., she gave what details she could on the villains leaving to help the agency capture the ne'er-do-wells. And, in return, S.H.U.S.H. offered their support in reclaiming the Negaverse.

Christine had been so bright and cheerful when Darkwing had shown up to her doorstep, the Friendly Four bracketing her. Darkwing had kept a hand hovering near his gas gun as he shook their hands; old habits and all that.

Taking his arm and dragging Darkwing around her police station, Christine detailed her plans for the Negaverse. How they'd bulldoze the parts of the city that were completely decimated and put up community housing. Explained the blueprints they had to rebuild the public buildings — libraries, the concert hall, rec centers, etc. — to give everyone a sense of community again. There were grocery stores that would pop up on every street. Banks would re-open. Even a park was planned, sweeping hills of green grass with trees and flowers blooming along bike paths and lining kids playgrounds.

It seemed Christine's visit to Darkwing's universe had done her some good.

Because she was trying to copy it here in her own.

Well-intentioned though they were, Christine's ideas were too big. Too sweeping. Too… unfocused. She saw what her St. Canard could be and yet couldn't see it for what it was.

And what the city was in the here and now was just as important as any potential it held.

Had he said any of that to her, though?

No.

He wasn't that crazy.

Instead, he had just smiled, nodded, complimented her on her ideas and her good intentions.

Who was he to tell her that her ideas wouldn't work?

Maybe they would.

He'd been wrong before.

Not about this, he didn't think, but Christine's ideas weren't out of the realm of possibility.

Still.

Something was off.

Something  _didn't work_.

He just couldn't figure out what.

He'd contemplated it while he'd walked back through the Negaverse towards the downtown area. To the Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice Bakery. To home. He'd been so caught up in his thoughts he didn't realize until it was too late that he'd taken a wrong turn and had been walking in the opposite direction he'd wanted to go.

With a heavy sigh, he'd turned around and started doubling back.

And that's when he'd come across them.

The graffiti murals.

The painted history.

As he studied them, like a patron at a museum, moving from alley to alley, decade to decade, he found out more about Negaduck than he ever bargained for.

He should have anticipated where this would end. What he would see as he twisted down the streets.

But he didn't.

Just kept moving from painting to painting, studying and learning.

So it was a shock when he reached the alleys that depicted Negaduck's and Gosalyn's partnership.

It shouldn't have been. He now knew all about them and how they'd worked together.

But his heart stuttered in his chest seeing them standing side by side all the same.

Darkwing had scurried past his section, not interested in his old adventures and struggles with Negaduck. Besides, Negaduck was always shown as the victor of their skirmishes and that was just  _unsettling_.

But next to Gosalyn….

Next to Gosalyn, Negaduck seemed….

It was like they fit.

Like Negaduck was somehow complete.

The first few murals that depicted the masked menace and vigilante archer looked more like movie posters. Duckburg was the setting, sometimes the Fearsome Four lingered in the background, sometimes Scrooge McDuck and his family. But Gosalyn and Negaduck were always in the foreground, scowling at each other or smirking at the viewer.

After those walls came more, but with the Negaverse as the backdrop. With the new landscape came a new dynamic between Gosalyn and Negaduck.

In some murals, they were in mid-fight, each of them firing their weapon of choice at persons or objects out of frame.

In others, they were walking away from an explosion or some sort of fire-related destruction.

There was one where Negaduck stood behind Gosalyn, instructing her on how to hold a bazooka.

Gosalyn had been painted hitching a ride on the back of Negaduck's motorcycle.

On Halloween, with skeletons, bats, spiders, and pumpkins the background, Gosalyn had dressed up as Negaduck, which about gave Darkwing a heart attack right there in the street. Negaduck only look mildly annoyed while Gosalyn winked at him from under a scarlet fedora.

The Christmas of that year was much softer, the deserted streets awash in gently falling snow as Gosalyn built a snowman that looked remarkably like the Lord of the Negaverse. Negaduck scowled in the background, the shocking yellow parka he was bundled up in gentled by the glow of Christmas lights strung along the decaying buildings.

There were murals that showed Negaduck destroying the Negaverse, throttling villains who had disobeyed or angered him. Setting his Dobermans free on a group of citizens. Igniting a ring of fire around some unsuspecting thief.

Those murals, the ones that showed Negaduck's shift in power from head criminal to crime boss, was where Darkwing started to see it.

In the background or off to the side or in the far corner was Gosalyn. Leading a family into an old building that, Darkwing found out over the course of several murals, became a safe house. Creating an underground marketplace where people could barter and trade for goods. Sneaking a few bags of coins away from Negaduck's hoard and handing it off to some children.

And it was these murals that made Darkwing realize what it was about Christine's plans to rebuild the Negaverse that didn't add up.

The Negaverse was about reinvention, not renovation.

Gosalyn had recognized that and had worked within the rules of the universe to give its citizens what they needed. Helped to create a somewhat stable society. And Negaduck took a firmer grip on the villains, regulating their behavior and rewarding them for following his orders.

Darkwing's chest expanded with pride as he grinned up at his daughter, painted on a wall handing Negaduck a machete with one hand as she snuck a jewel to a small duckling wandering past with the other.

She'd done it.

His Gosalyn.

She'd become her own hero.

In a city where villains were the ones in charge, Gosalyn had successfully set up a thriving underground society. She'd been helpful without undermining Negaduck.

Sighing, Darkwing eagerly turned down the next alley eyes sliding up the walls to see what acts of heroism Gosalyn had done next.

And he stopped. The very breath he'd been expelling with pride was stolen from him in the next moment.

There was a mural showing their most recent adventure. The one from a few weeks ago. Where Negaduck had disappeared.

The Fearsome Four, Ammonia Pine, Steelbeak, and Paddywhack leered at the viewer in Audubon Bay. Darkwing's Audubon Bay. Negaduck and Gosalyn stood in the foreground. She was looking up at Negaduck, her hair damp but her eyes bright. Negaduck was stripped of his fedora, holding Gosalyn by the shoulders.

What shook Darkwing to his core was the look of absolute tenderness that was on Negaduck's face.

Darkwing had seen that look before.

On his own face.

When he was looking at his daughter.

Darkwing had albums and folders dedicated to candids that Launchpad had captured over the years, forever saving little moments between the family. And, in almost all of them, Darkwing was looking at Gosalyn with the same expression.

To see it mirrored so exactly — seriously, just throw a purple costume on him, and Darkwing wasn't sure he could tell himself apart from Negaduck — in his arch enemy's expression was…. Well….

Depressing.

Because Negaduck really  _had_  loved Gosalyn.

Maybe as much as Darkwing did.

Okay, not quite so much because Darkwing had loved Gosalyn for years and, if anything, his backfill of love outweighed Negaduck's newfound love.

Reaching up to stroke his daughter's face, his fingers caressing the rough stone of the side of the building, Darkwing was surprised to find that he was okay with it. With Negaduck loving Gosalyn. She was too magnetic. Too spirited.  _Of course_  she'd gotten the biggest baddest villain of them all to fall for her.

Smiling to himself, Darkwing glanced down the alley for more art, only to see it blank. The powdery bricks and falling facades hadn't yet been painted over with any graffitied murals.

Unlike Christine, Darkwing didn't see a community garden in place of these decaying alleys.

Instead, he saw all the more miles of murals that could be painted. The old buildings repurposed into the history book of the Negaverse.

He just might have to revisit.

Not to see how things had changed.

But to see how many more stories would be told through graffiti on a crumbling brick wall.


	18. EPILOGUE: Fight Song

Gosalyn walked over to Gyro Gearloose, Scrooge McDuck's personal inventor, and peered at the computer he was tapping away on. "So? Is it gonna work?" she asked.

"Theoretically," he said, adjusting his glasses on his beak before typing away furiously at the keyboard again.

Darkwing scowled. "I need more than a  _theory_."

" _All_  of this is theory," Gyro pointed out as he glanced at Darkwing with a small smile. "It hasn't been done before."

Gosalyn met her father's eyes, trying to pacify him with a look, but she was just as confused. How was it only a theory? Negaduck had mastered travel between universes with ease. With Magica's help, Negaduck had once managed to bring all the Darkwings from other universes into the Prime St. Canard. Cross-dimensional travel had been so easy for the villainous mallard he could probably do this in his sleep, yet it was somehow beyond  _this_  scientist?

If only Negaduck were here…

But Negaduck wasn't here, Gosalyn reminded herself, her chest squeezing painfully at the thought.

She'd fix that.

She had to.

It was the least she could do after everything he'd done for her. Teaching her how to use more than just a bow and some arrows to fight. Getting her through the worst of her nightmares about the Bay. Protecting her from Stellar as the flames died around the three of them, Stellar's face morphed into a terrifying mask of hate as Negaduck's arm tightened around Gosalyn's waist, his fingers entwined in her hair as he tucked her head into his chest.

Gosalyn wasn't able to sleep through the night anymore. Sometimes because of the nightmares about the Bay or drowning, but Darkwing was able to help with those. He'd been especially attentive to her PTSD after she'd told him about it, and did all he could to help her.

It was the other nightmares that he couldn't help.

Those ones that replayed her final moments with Negaduck again. And again. And again. Panic rising in her chest, a cry escaping from her throat, the damp chill seeping into her bones as the warmth of Negaduck was ripped away from her. She often woke up thinking his arms were still around her, that he was pressing their foreheads together in farewell, that he would look down at her as she opened her eyes, his blinding smile dazzling her in the darkness of her room….

"I think that should do it. Wanna flip the switch?" Gyro asked, looking over at Gosalyn and effectively taking her out of her memories.

Reaching forward, she glanced at Gyro and her father. At Darkwing's assuring nod, Gosalyn pressed the button Gyro pointed to.

The portal flared to life, a rainbow of colors swirling in the mechanical doorframe, a faint glow spilling out the front, illuminating the ground in front of it in warm soothing light.

"It works," Gosalyn breathed before flinging her arms around Gyro and hugging him tightly. "It  _works_!" she cried.

"It turned on," Gyro clarified, standing stiffly in Gosalyn's embrace. She withdrew and Gyro pushed his glasses further on his beak as he cleared his throat. "We won't know if it works unless someone goes through."

"Don't wait up for me, honey," Gosalyn said, walking to the front of the portal, eyes raking the colorful glowing doorway hungrily. She'd seen a similar light and the same colors when she traveled from her world to the Negaverse. Gyro might be skeptical, but she was confident that the doorway was doing exactly what she and Gyro had programed it to.

"Gosalyn Mallard," Darkwing warned,  _that tone_  clear in his voice.

She looked at her father hesitantly, seeing the lines pulling down around his frown, the deep furrow of his brow. Gosalyn shrugged and sent him a little smile.

"We  _just_  turned it on," Gyro pointed out. "It would be better if we were to run a few tests before sending you through…"

"Oh, Gyro," Gosalyn said, grinning over at the inventor. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Where it should be," Gyro mentioned, walking around his computers to look at the portal himself. "Underneath a healthy dose of skepticism and my preservation of life."

"Well said." Darkwing followed Gyro, peering through the portal, his eyes sweeping over the doorway with unease.

"You're no fun," Gosalyn groused as she crossed her arms.

"And you're very young." Gyro eyed her. "Youth never believe anything bad will actually happen to them."

"I  _know_  bad things happen," Gosalyn muttered. Something bad had already happened. And she had to  _fix_  it. Why couldn't Gyro see that?

"And desperation makes us do drastic things," Gyro pointed out.

Gosalyn rounded on her father. "What did you tell him?"

Darkwing shook his head. "He's just intuitive, Gos."

Rolling her eyes, Gosalyn faced the portal and said, "Wish me luck."

"I still think—"

"Gyro. I'm going through."

"With me," Darkwing emphasized.

Gosalyn almost rolled her eyes. Almost. But she didn't want to have this argument  _again_.

"What do you think, Mr. Darkwing?" Gyro asked, looking to the hero. "Fifteen minutes?"

"What?" Gosalyn asked, turning to look at the older ducks.

"You two get fifteen minutes to go in there and walk back out before I call for help," Gyro explained, pointing back to the phone on his console.

Somewhere down in the bowels of Duckburg's science labs, Launchpad was on the other end of the line. Ready to problem solve any issues that arose with the brightest minds in the city. Which included Honker Muddlefoot, Gosalyn's childhood friend. After graduating with his third doctorate from St. Canard University, Honker had moved to Duckburg to work for Scrooge McDuck's science division. The most up-to-date technology and constant funding had been enough of a draw to get Honker to move away from St. Canard — and from crime fighting — to explore whatever he wanted without any restrictions. And he'd been called in for this very experiment, and was currently ready to fix whatever went wrong.

The whole thing was ludicrous.

Honker was a genius.  _Of course_  Honker was a genius. But not in this. Gyro was the foremost authority on multiverse travel. In  _this_  dimension, anyway. There was no one better to be standing here, making sure she and Darkwing were safe. But if her father and Launchpad felt better for having a failsafe in place, well then, who was she to argue?

"I think—"

"You gotta give us more than fifteen minutes!" Gosalyn said, interrupting her father.

"Gosalyn…."

"We need to  _explore_. Look around. You think we can see  _anything_  in fifteen—"

"It's just a test, Gosalyn." Lordy,  _the tone_  was back. "We go through, make sure we can walk into another universe, then come back. End of discussion."

"But—"

Darkwing's blue eyes flashed. "No."

Gosalyn itched to argue. She should have started this dimension jumping weeks and months ago. Should have been looking and searching back when this had all happened. And now she was here, literally standing in the doorway, and the  _adults_  were going to limit her search to fifteen minutes just because of  _safety_.

There was no safety. No one was guaranteed to walk out of any situation. She'd waited long enough, researching, hypothesizing, testing…. Gosalyn needed to  _act_.

But this test run could buy her more time later. Days. Weeks. She would be left to herself, traveling from universe to universe, looking….

"Fine," she growled out. Darkwing sighed in relief — clearly he'd anticipated a fight — and Gyro nodded his approval. The scientist went back to the screens, clicking on a few things, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

"Okay. I think I've got the connections up and running. Now, I'd find some defining characteristic of our door after you step through so you can find your way back. Some detail in the metalwork, or a landmark nearby."

"Sure, of course," Gosalyn said, stepping up in front of the portal, practically bouncing just to release some of her pent up energy.

A few more taps at the keyboard and Gyro said, "All right. Ready when you are." His hand hovered over the phone, ready to pick it up in a moment's notice.

Gosalyn nodded and inhaled deeply. Releasing her breath, she reached out for her father. She didn't have to reach very far. Grabbing ahold of his hand, she walked towards the doorway.

"Fifteen minutes, starting… now," Gyro called as the two stepped through.

Gosalyn was surprised to find that gravity worked in this portal. She was so used to floating between St. Canard and the Negaverse that it took a moment for her to realize she could just walk to other doors here.

And there were hundreds of those. Probably thousands. She couldn't see them all. Countless doorways to other universes were floating in a cylinder around her. A huge spiral staircase stood in the middle of it all, each step leading to another glowing doorway.

No need to follow Gyro's advice. The doorway that led to her home was at the bottom of the staircase. Easy enough to find her way back. As to how far up the staircase went….

Gosalyn only had to climb to find out.

Stepping up to the first door, she peered through the doorway, trying to see if she could make out anything. Shapes. Colors. Sounds. Smells.

But there was nothing.

Just a bright glow.

Taking in a deep breath, Gosalyn glanced back at Darkwing.

"Ready?" she asked, the grin she'd been holding back breaking free. She was here. It was working and she was so  _close_ ….

"I-I just want…." Darkwing cleared his throat, tightening his fingers around Gosalyn's hand. "Gos." His blue eyes caught her green ones, a quiet desperation in his gaze. "Just because you try your hardest, it doesn't mean you'll get what you want."

She blinked, her smile dropping off her beak. He waited to tell her this until now? Seriously?

"I… I know," she said.

But she didn't believe it.

Not because she didn't believe her father. He had an annoying habit of being right, especially when it came to life advice. She just couldn't take failure as an option. It couldn't be in her vocabulary, her thoughts, not even in her subconscious.

Because she  _owed_  Negaduck this.

And she couldn't say goodbye.

Not yet.

With a reassuring nod from her father, Gosalyn faced forward. Stepping in sync, Gosalyn and Darkwing walked through the portal.

 _Don't worry, Negaduck,_ she thought. _I'm coming._

**_A/N: As of now, I don't have a concrete sequel (three-quel?) in place, but it's not out of the realm of possibilities._ **

**_But, the big question: Do you think Gosalyn should find Negaduck? I have a poll[here](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6249388/RebellingStagnation#) i_ ** **_f anyone is interested in voting. Or you can just review with your thoughts; I'd love to see what everyone has to say._ **

**_I'd like to send out a thank you to my most loyal reviewers: Amelia and Bookwormgal. Thanks for your constant support and kind words. They kept me writing; I just hope this story was everything you thought it would be. And to my Boswell, my Beta, I owe so much of this story to your careful eye and suggestions. Thank you! And THANK YOU to everybody who took the time to read this story! I hope you liked it :)_ **

**_~RS_ **


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